


Memory Lane

by aerobreaking



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, Consensual Underage Sex, HEED the tags my children HEED them, M/M, Memory Loss, Panic Attacks, Secret Relationship, translated work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 67,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerobreaking/pseuds/aerobreaking
Summary: “I hate you,” He began, unable to stop the words and the disgust he felt at telling him the greatest lie he’d ever told, “I hate you so much, Victor. I wish I'd never met you.”After an accident leaves Yuri without his memories, Victor is caught between trying to win back his love and letting him find happiness with someone else.Original Spanish Version
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! 
> 
> so i should start off by saying, THIS WORK IS NOT MINE!!!
> 
> it belongs to [Miss.Breakable Butterfly](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4429627/Miss-Breakable-Butterfly) over on ffn. 
> 
> And let me just clear it up, I did ask for permission to translate this and post it on this specific website. She agreed. So let me reiterate, this is not my work and i'm only translating it because i think it's a gem.

** MEMORY LANE **

** by: Miss.Breakable Butterfly **

* * *

_ And at springtide, when the apple-blossoms brush the burnished bosom of the dove,  
Two young lovers lying in an orchard would have read the story of our love;  
  
Would have read the legend of my passion, known the bitter secret of my heart,  
Kissed as we have kissed, but never parted as we two are fated now to part.  
  
For the crimson flower of our life is eaten by the cankerworm of truth,  
And no hand can gather up the fallen withered petals of the rose of youth.  
  
Yet I am not sorry that I loved you -ah! what else had I a boy to do?  
For the hungry teeth of time devour, and the silent-footed years pursue.  
  
Rudderless, we drift athwart a tempest, and when once the storm of youth is past,  
Without lyre, without lute or chorus, Death the silent pilot comes at last.  
  
And within the grave there is no pleasure, for the blindworm battens on the root,  
And Desire shudders into ashes, and the tree of Passion bears no fruit.  
  
Ah! what else had I to do but love you? God's own mother was less dear to me,  
And less dear the Cytheraean rising like an argent lily from the sea.  
  
I have made my choice, have lived my poems, and, though youth is gone in wasted days,  
I have found the lover's crown of myrtle better than the poet's crown of bays. _

Fragment of "Flower of Love"

—Oscar Wilde

* * *

The applause resounds all over the arena.

The shouts and flowers fill the rink and Yuri smiles; he’s overwhelmed by emotions and for a moment he feels like the greatest of warriors after a long battle.

_Did you see it?_ He thinks and turns to look to where Victor and Yuuri had been watching his exhibition program. He bites his lip harshly when he notices that neither of them is looking at him, both completely submerged in a conversation that he doesn’t want to know anything about. Victor must feel his gaze on him, however, and his blue eyes seem to flash with some emotion when they meet his green ones. 

He snaps his eyes away and skates out of the rink without sparing another look to the couple.

“You did great,” Lilia says, and though there’s a small frown on her face she cannot hide the way her eyes light up in pride when she looks at him.

“That wasn’t the program we had agreed on,” Yakov tells his with a hard edge to his voice and handing him his skate guards. Yuri is about to answer him but someone else cuts in.

“But it was great!” Victor says from somewhere behind him.

Yuri tenses as he finishes putting guards on and turns to look at him, his eyes unamused.

“Good of you to notice,” He mutters as he turns away and smiles at Otabek who’s come close to where they're standing to return the sunglasses he had thrown at him during his show, “Thank you...”

He smiles and feels dark satisfaction when he notices Victor’s quiet discontent. The satisfaction gets cut short when he sees Yuuri coming from behind Victor and smiling at him.

“You were really amazing, Yurio,” The Japanese man says, a soft smile on his lips and Yuri doesn’t have the heart to answer something offensive despite the sharp sting in his chest when he notices how close he’s standing to Victor.

“Thanks,” He murmurs, as he feels his blush rise, he turns away from everyone and without meeting anyone’s eyes he announces, “I’m gonna go change.”

He hurries out, glad he’s getting away from everything, but just as he’s about to reach the changing rooms, someone grabs one of his wrists in a tight hold. He doesn’t have to turn around and see who it is. The texture, the heat it gives off, the size, and above all the damned ring that feels so cold against his skin gives him all the hints he needs to know who he’s dealing with.

“Let me go,” He quietly utters but the hold only tightens and he has to bite down on his lip to stop a whimper from escaping him. “I said let me go!” He pulls his arm back with all the strength he has and turns to look at his captor.

“What the fuck do you want?” He snarls.

“No need to get so angry, kitten,” Victor says in low voice, his eyes a dark, “I just want to talk to you.”

“Well, I have nothing to say to you,” Yuri spits, turning away from him.

He hears Victor click his tongue in annoyance behind him and he almost wants to gloat at the fact that he’s the one who caused his inconvenience. But his satisfaction is overshadowed again when the older man grabs him by the arm again and pulls him into the changing rooms all the way to the door that leads to the shower stalls. He does not heed any of Yuri's complaints or attempts to get away.

Victor forces him into one of the stalls and closes the door behind him, using his body to block the way and keep Yuri from escaping. 

The younger crosses his arms over his chest, defensively, and refuses to look at him in the face.

“We have to talk.” Victor’s voice cuts over the silence.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yuri spits back, and he digs his nails into his arms, looking as though as he was hugging himself.

Victor swallows thickly and feels a little guilty at having caused such a defensive reaction.

_He’s a kid,_ he thinks and the repulsive sensation almost consumes him when his conscious and his morality decide to kick into action. It makes his insides twist but it’s only for a moment because there is something dark and dense that overtakes him every time when he’s near Yuri. 

_“Yura,”_ He pleads, as he steps closer. He really wants to touch him, especially this instant when Yuri seems so far and unreachable. Yuri lifts his gaze and his green eyes remind Victor of stars shining in the dark sky.

“You’re so cruel,” Yuri says, and he hates himself when he doesn’t push Victor’s hand away when it comes to rest on his cheek, “So cruel.”

Victor laughs, though there is no humor behind it. He knows more than anyone else how destructive his affections and love can be.

He steps closer again and almost sighs in relief when Yuri’s hands grab the lapels of his jacket. He pushes down the knot in his throat and cups Yuri’s face in his hands, and all the dark make up around his eyes only seems to draw more attention to them.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs as his thumb runs over his lips. The caress is simple and at the same time more intimate than it should be.

_But it’s still not enough...I’m still not him_ , Yuri thinks to himself and because he doesn’t want to dwell on the pain that would bring him, he focuses on the feel of Victor’s thumb running over his lips. It’s as though the older man was trying to memorize their shape and form as if it was the last time he would ever do it. He closes his eyes as he comes to the realization, _This is the last time, isn’t it?_

He wants to ask him, but it only remains a heart-wrenching thought that makes him ache.

He hears Victor take in a soft breath and it makes him open his eyes and look at him. He has a fond look on his face and when Yuri feels the first tears about to escape his eye, Victor wastes no time kissing him.

His lips are warm and sweet against his own. One of his hands stays cupping his cheek and the other moves to tangle itself in Yuri’s blond hair. He lets the older man kiss him deeper when he feels his tongue running against his bottom lip. 

_I love you so much, Vitya,_ He thinks, _So much it hurts_. And he stands on the tips of toes to pour himself into the kiss better. He wishes he could reject him and hate him, but he can’t pull away.

He moans when Victor pulls his hair and nibbles his lower up. Their breaths mingle between them when they pull away and he’s looking at him with such an open expression Yuri lets himself believe for a split second that the emotion behind Victor’s eyes is the type of love he wants.

“I...” His voice comes out needy and breathless, “I—need—“ Victor’s hand slides down the back of his spine in a tantalizing manner until it comes to rest right over his ass.

“What do you need, kitten?” He asks in a teasing manner as he presses himself closer. Yuri bites the inside of his cheek and almost wants to kick him but when Victor presses his dick with his hand, he can’t help the moan that’s coaxed out of him. Victor’s voice makes him shiver, “What is it that you need?”

Yuri looks up to give him an annoyed look when Viktor asks again.

“I’m not gonna—ahh—beg.” He manages to say, trying to ignore the older man’s hand and he presses his own palm to Victor's hardening erection. 

“Yura…that—“ Victor closes his eyes and lets himself revel in the feel of the other palming his cock through his pants, “—feels good.”

He leans forward, catching Yuri’s lips with his own in undisguisable hunger. Without pulling away, he moves his hands to get off the unnecessary clothes the other has on and Yuri’s upper body is bare, he begins pressing kisses to his jaw and then down the length of his neck, barely holding himself back from leaving a mark. He wishes he could, that way everyone who had seen that performance earlier would know that he already belonged to someone.

Yuri’s hand comes to bury itself in his silver hair, his hold firm enough to begin to hurt but it only spurs Victor on.

“Victor—“ Yuri says, breathless and it makes a shiver go down Victor’s spine.

He slips a leg between the blonds and groans when he feels the hard erection. All for him. Then, he finally brings his lips to one of Yuri’s nipples and Yuri bites his bottom lip to hold in his moan. Victor moves his tongue expertly, lightly biting it until it’s pink and hard and sensitive. He does the same to the other until both nubs are sensitive.

“I wanna hear you,” He tells him, pressing his leg harder against Yuri.

“N-no,” He stutters, his body shuddering as he tries to rub himself against Victor’s leg for more friction, “You-you want s-someone to hear?”

Despite saying this, Yuri releases a sweet, loud moan when Victor manages to undo the zipper of his pants and pulls out his swollen dick. Victor takes a moment to appreciate the scene before him, here Yuri was, his rebellious kitten, short of breath and skin flushed. 

Yuri takes advantage of Victor’s pause, shuffling down the rest of his pants and underwear. He looks up at the older man, a mischievous smile overtaking his lips, and his gaze darkening in lust. He steps forward until he has Victor pressed up against the wall and his hand skimming the band of the older's trousers. He teases, not giving him the attention he craves.

When Yuri finally undoes the button and slips his hand down his pants, Victor almost wants to scream when he doesn’t immediately take him in his hand.

“Yuraa..” He whines, trying to move his hips so his cock presses harder into Yuri’s palm.

“Yeah Victor?” The younger questions, pressing kisses to Victor's exposed neck. He undoes the first two buttons of shirt when he can't kiss down anymore. 

Victor opens his eyes, not even recalling that he had closed them, and gives an amused huff when he sees the deviant expression on Yuri’s face. He knew this was an act of small revenge for trying to get Yuri to beg but it wouldn't last long since in this state, both were being controlled by their need.

“Do it harder,” Victor said, almost smiling, and he had to swallow back down a curse when instead of gripping him, Yuri gives one last tug to his pants freeing him and drops to his knees. He slowly pumped his member, using the precum that he was already leaking to better facilitate the slide of his hands. Victor sighed, leaning his head back until it was hitting the wall, and then, when he felt Yuri’s warm, moist mouth wrap around him, he slid a hand in his blond hair. Yuri bobbed his head on his cock, humming around it, and almost taking it in its entirety into his mouth.

“Kitten—“ Victor choked, “—stop.”

Yuri let Victor’s dick slip out of his mouth and then he was being grabbed by the arm and pulled up. He didn’t have much time to think before Victor had maneuvered him to press him up against the wall. He whispered in his ear, as he slotted the dicks together and held them in his hand, “I want to be inside you.” 

“Mmmm,” Yuri moaned in affirmation, wrapping one of his legs around Victor's hips.

The hand that wasn’t tortuously rubbing their cocks together came to graze Yuri’s lips and without waiting for instructions, Yuri took his fingers into his mouth, coating them in saliva. Yuri was glad that the hand he was licking wasn’t the one with the damned ring because if he had to lick around it when he was so desperate and needy it would simply be too humiliating. 

Victor pulled his hand slowly away from his mouth and it wasn’t long before he felt the wet fingers prodding at his entrance. He grunted in displeasure when the first finger went in, it had been too long since he had done this. Too long since he had last been with him.

“Shhh,” Victor comforted, “It’ll be okay.” He waited for a few seconds before he continued his ministrations again. He kissed Yuri as he started to slowly pump in one finger, trying to find that spot that would make this all this easier and make Yuri dig his nails into his back.

When he finally found it, Yuri did not disappoint him. He pulled his lips away, cursing, and he moved his hips as Victor thrust his finger. But it wasn’t enough.

“I-I—need—“ Yuri began only to cut himself off and give a frustrated sound. He wasn’t going to beg, not if this was the last time.

He clung to Victor, digging his nails into his shoulders, and despite the pain, it only made Victor release a pleasured sound as he slipped in another finger. Yuri almost withered when he felt the penetration, the pain and pleasure mixing, and making him curse again. He dug his heels into the small of Victor’s back. The older man continued to pump inside him two fingers and then three, and then the pain faded into pleasure and he had to bite down on his lip to keep the guttural moan from escaping him.

Victor clicked his tongue, kissing Yuri fully when he noticed him worrying his bottom lip. He released a sound when the younger kissed back without hesitation. They only separated when oxygen was beginning to become a necessity and Yuri made a sound in frustration when Victor pulled his fingers away. Victor grabbed both of his thighs, lifting him, and Yuri wrapped both his legs around him as he felt something much bigger beginning to slide into him. Victor buried himself to the hilt in a quick thrust and Yuri let out a sound crossed somewhere between a moan and a groan. 

“You’re so warm,” Victor gritted into his neck and Yuri gave a slightly embarrassed whine. For a moment, everything was silent except their heavy breathing as Yuri adjusted to the large member inside him.

“Move, idiot old man,” Yuri grumbled finally, moving his hips in a circular motion and making Victor’s breath hitch.

“If you do that I’m not going to last,” He told him, but despite telling him this, Victor was already moving his hips to the rhythm Yuri wanted. They moved desperately against each other, their hips meeting frantically and pleasure making them tremble. When heat began to pool at the base of his stomach, Yuri didn’t resist, didn’t try to prolong it, instead he tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and let himself fall into the sudden and intense orgasm that hit him.

Victor thrust into him a few more times, chasing his own orgasm until he spent himself inside Yuri’s warmth. The blond buried his face into Victor’s neck, hugging him tightly for a few moments.

“It’s alright, kitten,” Victor murmurs, running his hands down the length of his back trying to comfort him.

Yuri takes in a steadying breath and he pulls away, looking at the mark he had left in Victor’s collarbone. He untangles himself from the older man, setting his unsteady legs on the floor as he makes a face when he feels the warm liquid running down his thighs. Yuri breathes in again and his face settles into indifference.

Victor looks at him, with growing dread, Yuri is looking farther away than he had moments ago.

“Go,” Yuri tells him, walking past him and turning on the shower.

A sound of incredulity leaves the older man's throat and he moves to touch him, but Yuri pulls away, and Victor’s heart seems to drop out of his chest.

“That’s all you wanted? Wasn’t it?” Yuri questions, his voice hard, and his eyes turning cold as he pointed to his clothes on the floor.

Victor shakes his head, not really knowing what to say. Here was the boy that had given himself to Victor in more ways than one, looking far too heartbroken.

“Yuri,” He starts, his throat dry, “You know I lo—“

“—Don’t you dare!” Yuri spits, his green eyes flashing in anger and hurt, “Don’t you dare. Not when you’re leaving me again.”

It almost sounded like a question, as if he was waiting for Victor to tell him that it wasn’t true. But the silver-haired man could only turn his gaze away.

Yuri smiles bitterly at Victor’s silent answer. So it was true, and though Yuuri hadn’t won Victor really was planning on marrying him.

“I hate you,” He began, unable to stop the words and the disgust he felt at telling him the greatest lie he’d ever told, “I hate you so much, Victor. I wish I'd never met you.”

Victor clenched his fists, looking at him with wide eyes, “I—“

“Just go.” Yuri interrupted, done with the conversation. He turned away, stepping under the running water. He closed his eyes and almost wished Victor wouldn’t listen to him, that he would take him in his arms again and tell him it was all a lie. Instead, he only heard the sound of Victor putting himself back together, the stall opening and closing, and the sound of his footsteps as he walked further and further away from him.

_You’re a fucking idiot, Yuri Plisetsky,_ he told himself, _Why would he stay? Not even your mother stayed for you._ He turned the shower on higher, trying to quickly dispel the feel of Victor’s body against his own.

* * *

Yuri clicked his tongue when he saw his reflection in the mirror, he still didn’t know how to face Victor after what happened last night and he felt a little put off. But he squared his shoulders, adjusted his tie for the ninth time, and left his hotel room. He went to find Yakov and Lilia who were waiting for him so they could head to the banquet together.  As soon as Lilia saw him, she gave him an evaluating look and readjusted his tie again and when she was satisfied, they headed to the main banquet hall of the hotel. There was music already playing when they went in and as they went in, his eyes immediately fell on the table were Yuuri and Victor were sitting. He made a face, as breathed in deeply, trying to play his irritation of as boredom as he scanned the hall and avoided looking at the couple again. 

“You don’t seem too happy,” Mila greeted as soon as they sat down at their table.

“Leave me alone, old hag.” He responded, but his voice lacked its usual irritation. Mila frowned, a little worried, but decided to not push since Yuri mostly like would tell her off and retreat more into himself. 

_Teenagers,_ she thought to herself, _always so difficult._

A little while passes, and Lilia and Yakov left to socialize and left her with the moody teen. She saw one of the servers pass by with champagne on a tray and with a smile, she got up. She grabbed two and came back to her seat, offering Yuri one.

“Don’t look so suspicious,” She said when she noticed his hesitant gaze, “I’m not trying to poison you.” She drank hers in a gulp and continued, “Besides, Lilia and Yakov aren’t paying attention.”

Yuri looked around, trying to find his coaches, and noticed they were in deep conversation with other coaches and as Mila had said, totally not paying attention to Yuri. He grabbed the flute that was being offered to him and gave a tentative sip, the bubbles and the taste made him frown a little bit but as he took more sips, the taste wasn’t as bad as he initially thought.

Mila laughed at the look on his face and when he finally finished the champagne, his cheeks gained a slight pink tint, he handed her the flute back and ordered, “Bring me another.”

For some reason, the banquet didn’t seem as boring as it did a few minutes ago and the bad mood he was in didn’t seem like something he should be worried about. _Why had he gotten so upset about an old man like Victor?_ It didn’t even make sense.

When Mila returned with the two more flutes of champagne, before she had any chance to stop him, he grabbed them both and downed them in quick succession.

“Woah there, slow down kitten,” She said, her voice gaining a worried tone. Her brilliant idea to cheer him up was quickly looking not-so-great.

Yuri froze at the nickname and with an irritated click of his tongue said, “Don’t ever call me that again.” The song that was playing changed and he suddenly felt the need to move his feet, “Let’s dance.”

He didn’t even wait for a response before he was pulling her to the center of the dance floor. His steps a little unsteady and she grabbed a hold of his elbow, “Slow down a little.”

When she noticed his how his face had changed into one of genuine amusement—a stark difference to how he had been a few minutes ago—she let her worry dissipate and they danced until their feet could dance no more. They would only sit for a few minutes, regain their breath and drink a little more, and then they would be back on the floor. Dancing like no one was watching and having the best time of their lives.

After a while, Yuri felt his stomach churn and left to take a seat.

“What’s wrong?” Mila asked, following after him, despite the fact that she was also already starting to feel the effects of the champagne.

“I don’t feel good,” He moaned in discomfort, “Can you tell Yakov and Lilia that I’m going back to my room?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond before he was standing up and making his way out of the hall. Mila was tempted to follow after him but Sara grabbing her by her wrist made her stop.

“Come on, Mila!” She said, “I convinced Otabek to play something for us!”

Mila smiled, giving one last fleeting look to when Yuri had disappeared off to. His condition wasn’t too bad and she really wanted to see Otabek as a DJ. She really liked that guy.

* * *

Yuri moaned, his focus was becoming clearer and he really regretted having been influenced by the old hag. Especially since he hadn’t really eaten anything in the entire day. He took a deep breath as he slowly walked through the lonely corridors of the hotel that would lead him to his room. His stomach was becoming more and more upset and he felt like at any moment it would make him throw up all the champagne he had drunk. And to top it all off, his head was beginning to hurt.

“No Yuuri,” He heard Victor's voice say and Yuri’s steps immediately halted.

His discomfort seemed to vanish in the next instant and with quiet steps, he approached the hall to the emergency stairs where he heard the voice coming from. He stopped when he saw the figures of two men he knew very well wrapped in a hug.

“But Victor…” The Japanese man complained, the slight whine in his voice giving away the fact that he had also been drinking.

“You’re drunk,” Victor said, trying to readjust the hold he had on his student. Yuuri moaned in pain and hugged him tighter, his arms firmly wrapped around the taller man's neck, and his lips dangerously close.

“You don’t want to…?” Yuuri asked, his voice low and seductive and Victor choked when his hips pressed firmly against his own.

As Yuri looked at what was happening, the need to throw up returned tenfold and when Yuuri Katsuki finally closed the distance between them, he was unable to stop the hurt sound that escaped his throat. He leaned against the wall and he saw Victor quickly separate himself from Yuuri and turn his blue eyes to him.

He was sure Victor saw the hurt and embarrassment that clouded his features, “So-sorry.” He stuttered, his headache returning, and his lungs burning. He knew that if he didn’t get out of there soon, he would start crying.

He turned and without knowing how, ran from what he had witnessed and the pain it had caused him.

“YURI!” He heard Victor scream, but if it was him he was calling or the _other_ Yuuri, he didn’t stop to find out.

He ran as far and fast as his legs were able to carry him and when he finally stopped, he looked up to find himself in a strangely empty street and he had no idea where he was. He held his hands to his chest, trying to catch his breath, as his tears streamed down his cheeks. He knew Victor was going leave him but he had never seen him interact in such an intimate way with the Japanese man, not even in Hasetsu.

_Or maybe they were just good at hiding,_ He thought to himself, and for a split second imagined them intimately wrapped around each other in the hot springs, Yuuri having all of Victor’s attention and the image was repulsive to him enough that he finally leaned over and rid himself of the contents in his stomach.

In that same instant, his phone rang, and the ringtone he had set for that particular contact made him feel worse. 

When he finished, silence overtook the street again but it was only for a few seconds because, in the distance, he heard a sound. He took out his phone from the pocket of his pants and with incredulity saw the twenty-two missed calls he had. The phone rang again and he decided to turn it off and that’s when he heard the screeching of tires. He looked up to where the sound was coming from and saw two pairs of headlights approaching at an alarming speed.

He’s sure the drivers tried to turn, or break, but it was too late and Yuri clearly heard the distinct sound of his head hitting the pavement and giving a horrible crack. He blinked and in the distance heard a number of foreign curses and phrases that he didn’t understand.

_I told him I hated him and that I wish I’d never met him,_ He thought as the world began to turn dark and he wanted to laugh, _It all seems so stupid now._

The hold he had on his phone finally ceased as it continued to ring into the night. He sighed, painfully, and the last thing he saw was Victor’s smiling face and then his grandfather.

_Be happy, Victor_ , He thinks as cold seeps into his bones. He really hoped he was, he regrets the things he told him the last time they were together. He didn’t deserve it. He had always known Victor loved him but it hadn’t been the way he wanted. _And I hope mom takes care of you, grandfather._

But his last thought as his consciousness leaves him is this: dying was as cold as a Russian winter night.


	2. When the Sun Sleeps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! 
> 
> this is a little late, but I'm here. lol. I was hoping to translate a chapter every week but this week became a little hectic but! here we are.  
> 

* * *

** Memory Lane **

_ by: Miss. Breakable Butterfly _

**_ When the Sun Sleeps _ **

* * *

Victor felt nervous. He looked over his appearance in the mirror, noting the contrast his gray shirt made against his white jacket and the blue tie. He let out a sigh and not entirely satisfied with his appearance turned when Yuuri spoke to him.

“Are you ready?” He asked, the gray tux he was wearing complimented his figure well. Victor was glad he’d forced him to buy it.

“Of course,” The older man put on a smile that appeared more confident than how he was really feeling. They made their way out of the hotel room down to the hall and his blue eyes immediately scanned the area. He was anxious to see Yuri, after the way they had parted yesterday, he had felt restless and troubled at how their conversation had ended. He had wanted to ignore Yuri’s request and go back to speak to him but he knew Yuri wouldn’t listen to him, not when he was so angry.

They took a seat at one of the tables, waiting for more people to trickle in and his thoughts inevitably turned to yesterday.

_I hate you,_ He remembers the way Yuri’s eyes had looked so hurt, the blue pecks in his irises seemingly brighter than usual under the artificial lights. The words were a lie, he _knew_ that, but as Yuri spit them out, he could not help the hurt that took root in his heart, _I hate you so much, Victor. I wish I’d never met you._

“Are you alright?” Yuuri questions, concerned that Victor seemed more serious than usual.

Victor flinched at the suddenness of his voice but gave him an easy smile, “Yes.” 

His expression didn’t change and it seemed his assurance hadn’t reassured Yuuri at all if his still-concerned gaze was anything to go by. He avoided looking at him in the eye and it was in the next instant when he saw him walking in. Yuri was dressed as if he was going to a funeral, his suit and shirt all black, and the only color he was wearing was a red tie. He looked like an angel of death, the dark clothes only making his skin look paler and his disposition colder. He swallowed a knot in his throat when Yuri’s gaze swept the room, intentionally avoiding looking in his direction.

He was grateful that Chris came to sit with them, he took a seat beside Yuuri, and it gave him a clear view of the table _Yurio_ and his coaches had chosen. 

“I really didn’t expect you to make a comeback,” Chris was saying, his eyes taking in the way Victor’s gaze was focused on something beyond him, “How are you going to coach and compete at the same time?”

Victor frowned when he saw Mila sit beside his kitten, the boy looked more quiet than usual and Victor’s guilt threatened to drown him. He saw Mila get up and then return with two champagne flutes and he clicked his tongue when she saw him extending Yuri one.

_What is that girl doing? He’s underage._ He thought as he watched Yuri take a tentative sip, and the part of him that was self-deprecating and rational seemed to mock, _Underage, you say? Yet, that didn’t stop you from fucking him in the showers last night._

He grabbed his own champagne and downed it in one go. He hated feeling this way. There was a part of him that wanted to say _fuck it_ and send everything to hell and do what _he_ wanted. But there was another part—the conscious, the reasonable part— that questioned his every move and forced him to look at the things he was doing wrong.

“—ictor. Victor!” He jumped, realizing Chris had been calling him for a while. The Swiss man turned to see what had caught Victor’s attention, he shook his head when he saw Yuri and turned back to face him.

“You’re really distracted, Vitya.” Chris complained with a pout and Victor tried giving him one of his usual wide smiles, but Chris, who was his best friend, knew how obviously fake it was.

“Sorry,” He apologized, “I’m feeling a little tired.”

Chris nodded, relenting, and turned his smile to Yuuri who was looking at Victor with worry. “Let’s dance, Yuuri,” He told him, standing up, “Victor is _so_ boring when he’s like this.”

“But…” Yuuri protested, but Victor waved him off as he stuck his tongue in a childish gesture at Chris.

“You’re so rude, Chris,” He said as he gave Yuuri a smile, “But don’t worry about me. Go have fun, I want to talk to Yakov about my return to his rink anyway.”

Yuuri didn’t look too convinced but stood and made his way to the dance floor. Before following after him, Chris turned to Victor, a quietly murmured, “I thought you had given up on the situation.” He motioned with his head to where Yuri was laughing with Mila.

He looked at his friend and confidant in the eye, “I—“ He stopped abruptly, running a hand through his hair in a nervous tick. Chris just nodded knowingly and with one last pat on Victor’s shoulders finally left. Victor was grateful he didn’t press the issue and with one last look at where Yuri was, he turned and went in search of Yakov. He found him talking to the Kazakhstan coach and he immediately caught sight of Otabek in his periphery who was talking to the Canadian skater.

He knew it wasn’t his place and it was something completely childish since he was the one that put distance between Yuri and himself but it annoyed him just how close Yuri seemed to be to the guy. Who was he kidding? He _burned_ with jealousy, even if he had no right and even if it was an entirely egoistic feeling.

He tried to dispel his thoughts and tried to focus on the things he wanted to talk to Yakov about.

* * *

When he finally found himself distracted from the thoughts about what his relationship with Yuri had been reduced to, Chris appeared with Yuuri hanging off his shoulder. The Japanese man was giggling and his smile only widened when he saw Victor.

“Victoooor~” He whined, separating himself from Chris and making his way towards him, “Let’s danceee~”

He attached himself completely to his side and he let out a loud laugh right by his ear that made Victor wince at its volume.

“Sorry,” Chris apologized, his smile giving the indication that he was the furthest thing from sorry, “He was so tense and then I remembered how fun he gets when he’s drinking.” He slapped the Japanese man’s ass playfully and when he saw Yuuri’s pout, Chris threw his head back and laughed.

Victor sighed, realizing that Chris was probably also drunk yet he couldn’t be anything but amused at their antics.

“I think it’s best if we left,” He said, noting Yuuri’s inability to keep upright.

“Noooo,” Yuuri whined, hugging Victor tightly, “I’m having soooo much fun and I have to—I have to beat Yuuurioo…” He pointed to where Yuri, Mila, Sara, Otabek, Michele, Emil, JJ, and his fiancé were dancing. They were all laughing and making a racket. Victor noticed the smile Yuri had on his face, a complete one-eighty from earlier and last night. He swallowed down his bitterness and looked down at Yuuri.

“Beat him?” He parroted. 

Yuuri nodded vigorously and only stopped when he felt everything start to spin. “I have to beat him in a dance-off,” He managed to say, and unwinding his arms from Victor’s chest gave a tentative step to where the other skaters were congregated. He swayed, however, and Victor wrapped an arm around his waist, as Chris laughed, skirting away when he saw Victor’s eyebrows quirk in displeasure.

“Why don’t we go get some fresh air?” He told Yuuri, already leading him out of the hall without waiting for a response. And throwing one last look at _Yurio_ over his shoulder, they made their way towards the exit of the banquet hall.

He had to adjust his hold on Yuuri three times as he babbled on about things that didn’t make sense. They passed through the lobby and up the elevator and when they were in the hallway where their room was at, Yuuri stopped abruptly.

“I wanna throw up,” He moaned, pushing Victor away and holding on to the wall. He made his way to the hallway that lead to the emergency exit, when he had finally reached the end of the hallway he crumpled and curled himself into a ball.

Victor followed after him, waiting for him to either keep moving or turn back to their room, but it looked as though he would fall asleep instead, he grabbed him by his arm, trying to make him stand up.

Yuuri immediately clung to him, pressing their bodies together and pushing him until Victor’s back was hitting the wall. He made a face when he saw the way Yuuri was looking up at him. He turned his gaze away.

“You have such pretty eyes,” Yuuri commented, and Victor could feel his breath on his neck and smell the overbearing scent of alcohol.

Victor tried to hold him up in a less compromising position but Yuuri only held him tighter. 

“Victor…” He moaned, and the silver-haired man swallowed nervously, he knew that if Yuuri was sober he would be completely ashamed at his behavior. Their relationship wasn’t of that nature, and he knew he’d made Yuuri _very_ uncomfortable when Victor had made the joke about the rings. He cursed when he felt Yuuri’s lips grazing his neck and he tried turning away but Yuuri whined at the rejection.

“Yuuri, no.” He said, trying to put space between them and at the same time not let him go since Yuuri wasn’t even able to keep himself standing upright.

“But Victor,” He murmured, and Victor barely managed to keep in the exasperated sound that wanted to escape his throat. He was going to kill Chris for giving his student alcohol. 

“You’re drunk,” He told him, trying to pry off Yuuri’s arms from around him. Yuuri shook his head against his chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. His lips were dangerously close and Victor could feel his panic starting to rise.

“You don’t want to?” He asked, his voice low and Victor let out an undignified squeak when Yuuri finally pressed his hips to his. 

_Shit,_ he cursed in all the languages he knew internally. He looked at Yuuri’s face with wide eyes and tried to find a way to pull away but Yuuri’s hold was firm. A pained sound from a few ways away finally made him tear Yuuri’s hands off him and he looked up. 

Yuri’s eyes were wide and his cheeks pink, but what really caught Victor’s attention was the way his eyes filled with tears and the pained expression that crossed his features. Victor’s heart constricted in his chest.

“So-sorry,” He stuttered, and he turned and took off running.

Yuuri started to crumble when Victor loosened his hold on him.

“YURI!” He shouted, ready to chase after him but it was in that instant that Yuuri finally threw up.

“ _Fuck_ ,” He hissed, giving Yuuri the space he needed to finish retching. He held him with one arm and he pulled out his phone with his free hand, glad to have Yuri’s number on speed dial.

He huffed in frustration when the call went to voicemail but unlike yesterday, he didn’t stop. He called again and again and only paused when he finally managed to drag Yuuri back to their room. He led Yuuri to the bathroom to clean him up somewhat and then he laid him down on the bed. As soon as Yuuri felt the soft surface, he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep. Victor loosened Yuuri’s tie and took off his shoes. He threw a blanket over him and finally took a seat in his own bed. He tried calling Yuri again.

_If I don’t answer, it’s obviously because I’m doing something important so—_ _Yurio’s_ sly voice made Victor smile but it quickly fell, replaced with guilt and uneasiness when he remembered the look on his face before he took off running.

He hung up and tried again. But the results didn’t change.

He was tempted to return to the hall and look for him so they could talk about everything but there was a part of him that was scared of the rejection he would find if he saw him.

With a resigned sigh, he called again.

* * *

He turned and hit his elbow against the hard wooded edge of the armchair. He groaned and with a pained sigh opened his eyes. He couldn’t recall the exact moment when he had fallen asleep, he just remembered sitting on the armchair overlooking the scenery of the city as he tried to call Yuri for what felt like the ninetieth time.

He sat up, his body protesting because of the uncomfortable position he had slept in for so long and with disappointment realized his phone was completely dead. Sometime during the night, it must have gone out.

He got up without wanting to and realized he hadn’t really slept all that long, it was only six in the morning. He sighed and with pain in his lower back, he crawled his way into the bed. He shot Yuuri a look. He was dead asleep, snoring, and murmuring quiet incoherent Japanese. Victor held back a laugh, Yuuri would have a terrible headache when he woke up.

He let out a yawn and after putting his connecting his phone to charge and setting it on the bedside table, he finally pulled the covers completely over himself. He closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep but it evaded him. The fact that he hadn’t solved the problem with Yuri was eating away at him.

Without much success, he tried quieting his thoughts, but after a while, with resignation, he turned to face the ceiling and for a split second had the thought to go to Yuri’s room to speak to him right that instant. But he refrained, knowing that there was a possibility Yakov or Lilia was with him.

When it turned to be seven, and it was evident that he would not be falling asleep again, he sat against the headboard of the bed and grabbed his phone. He was going to send him a text, begging him to just give him a few minutes before at the airport before their individual flights separated them.

He turned on his phone and frowned when he saw he had six missed calls from an unknown number and a few voicemails from the same number. He was just about to bring the phone to his ear to listen to them when there was a sharp knock at the hotel room door.

“Yes?” He answered, as soon as he opened the door and he barely kept in the yawn of exhaustion that wanted to escape him. Before him stood Yakov, looking over Victor’s shoulders nervously. When he noticed his tense behavior he asked, “Is there something wrong?”

“Have you seen Yuri?” Yakov asked instead of answering, not even bothering to hide his frantic tone.

Victor tensed and the tiredness he felt up until that moment seemed to evaporate.

“The last time I saw him he was going to his room,” He cautiously said, not wanting to reveal the fact that Yuri had taken off running when he saw Yuuri kissing him in his intoxicated state. There was no reason to give Yakov any reason to start asking questions he didn’t want to answer.

“Are you sure?” The older man asked, looking even more severe by the moment and Victor felt something in his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Why do you ask?” He questioned, clenching his fist to keep them from trembling, Yakov looked as though he was about to deliver news Victor would not like.

“Yuri never made it back to his room last night and no one knows where he is.”

The knot in his stomach only seemed to expand and he had to stop himself before he shook Yakov frantically and ask him to tell him everything he knew. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and took a shuddering breath. He looked at his old coach in the eye and said, “Give me a few minutes and I’ll help you look for him.”

Without waiting for a response he went back into the room and took a pen and paper and left a quick note to Yuuri. Then he made his way the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and tried to tame his disarrayed hair. He grimanced at the state of the shirt he had worn last night was in but didn’t bother taking it off. There wasn’t any time to change so with one last look at the mirror he turned, grabbed his jacket, and made his way out.

Yakov was waiting for him, leaning against the wall and his arms crossed, there was a deep frown etched on his face. He looked up when he saw him and motioned for him to follow. They walked down the hall to were the elevators were.

“Did you check with Mila?” Victor asked once they were inside the elevator. Yakov shook his head and sighed.

“He’s not with her.” He answered, without any doubt and Victor frowned.

“How do you know?” He had noticed how Yuri and Mila had been attached at the hip last night since the banquet began.

“I had to take her to her room because she had been drinking so much.” The memory made Yakov make a displeased face, “By that time, it had already been a few hours since Mila told me Yuri had gone back to his room. But when I went to check on him, he wasn’t there. I thought maybe he’d gone somewhere with you but...”

Victor nodded, understanding Yakov’s assumptions. An ugly sensation washed over him. They stepped out the elevator into the hotel lobby that was completely deserted so early in the morning.

“Have you checked with Otabek boy?” He asked through gritted teeth, and just imagining that made him his skin itch.

“I did. But he’s not with him either,” His coach answered and Victor almost wished that the answer had been yes. The tension in his body only seemed to increase and when he was about to ask Yakov where else he had checked when his phone rang. The sound cut sharply through the silent lobby and it made both of them startle. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and realized that it was the same number from earlier calling him again. He answered, a bit confused.

“Hello?” He greeted in Russian, not taking time to note the international code. On the other end of the line, a man's voice asked if he knew English.

“Yes, who is this?” He switched to English. There was a sigh of relief in the other end and Victor almost rolled his eyes.

“Hello, good morning. I’m sorry I’m calling so early. But this morning at around two thirty-five there was a call to the paramedics,” The man started speaking, his voice professional, and every fiber of Victor's being was suddenly alert. 

“What’s wrong Victor?” Yakov asked when he noticed how the blood had drained from his face and his hands had begun to shake. The silver-haired man didn’t seem to hear him though.

“—a young, presumably Russian young man of about sixteen years of age was involved in a car accident. Since there was no identification on his person and since you were the last number that called we were hoping you would help us identify him since—“

_Identify?_ The word resounded in Victor’s cranium and he almost lost the grip on his phone, _was Yuri—could it be that his kitten_ was—he couldn’t even finish the thought and a pained noise escaped his throat and Yakov came to stand close when he saw his unsteadiness.

“Is he—is he—“ He choked out the words, his voice trembling and catching but the other person seemed to pick up on what he was trying to say.

“Oh, no. No-no.” Victor almost released a sigh of relief until but the man continued talking, “Though it is a miracle he survived given the nature of his injuries.”

“Where—where is he?” He managed to ask.

“Right. Mmm, he’s at the Clinical and Provincial Hospital of Barcelona. Room number two hundred forty-three in the intensive care unit. I’d like to meet with you as soon as you get there.”

“Of course,” Victor said with more calm than he felt. He hung up and turned to Yakov.

“Yuri’s in the hospital.” His voice sounded far away even to his own ears and his eyes were focused somewhere behind his coach, not willing to look at him in the eyes as he delivered the news. “There was a car accident and he’s in the ICU.”

“ _What?_ ” Yakov asked, incredulous, “Where?”

Victor repeated the information given to him and with a nod, Yakov turned towards the exit.

“Wait I—“ Victor said, following him, “I’ll—go with you.”

His coach only nodded, his face set into one of those severe expressions Victor dreaded. They hailed a taxi as soon as they were out of the hotel lobby.

“To Clinical and Provincial,” He told the driver in broken Spanish, he sighed in relief when the driver only nodded in understanding. He checked his jacket, thankful his wallet was in with him with money to cover the transportation.

* * *

When they finally make it to the hospital, Victor and Yakov quickly got off of the car, and Victor handed the driver a wad of bills without bothering to count them. The driver’s eyes widened when he counted the money, noting that it was more than half of the actual charge, but before he could tell them, the two Russian men had long disappeared into the building. He prayed that whoever these foreigners were here for was alright and with one last look at the looming hospital building, he left.

Victor didn’t like hospitals, to be honest, he detested them. He hated the smell of antiseptic that tried to disguise the smell of death.

“ _She’s going to be fine,_ ” He remembers his father saying, his smile wavering at its edges and his eyes avoiding looking at the woman laying on the bed who he’d been married to for close to twenty years.

He internally shook his head, trying to chase away those memories, as the reception desk came into view.

“We’re here for the patient in room two hundred forty-three in the ICU,” He said in English, the receptionist blinked for a few split second as she processed the foreign language. Then she nodded and began to look over the information on her computer. She clicked her tongue and pulled out some papers from a drawer under her desk.

“You have to fill out these forms,” She said, her English close to perfect, as she handed them the papers and a pen, “When you’re done you can bring them back and the doctor in charge will speak to you about the status of the patient. You can wait there,” She pointed to the rows of chairs and reluctantly, Victor and Yakov did as she asked. When they took a seat, Victor handed the forms to Yakov who quickly got to work on them. When he was done, he got up to return them to the nurse, and just when he was about to take a seat next to Victor again, a police officer and a doctor came close to the reception area.

Victor stood up immediately when he saw that the nurse was telling them something and showed them the forms Yakov had just finished filling out. The doctor nodded and took some notes on the chart he had in his hands. As he did this, the police officer made his way towards them.

He gave them a reassuring smile as he stopped right in front of them.

“Hello, I’m officer Manuel Mujica, can I ask who it was I spoke with earlier this morning?” He asked his expression set in professional platitude.

“It was me,” Victor answered, his face set in seriousness.

“Are you the young man’s guardian? Mister…” He trailed off.

“Victor Nikiforov, and no. I’m not his guardian.” The officer pursed his lips when he heard that, noting how the silver-haired man seemed so familiar but he couldn’t quite place where it was that he had seen him.

“Given the situation, it’s best if I speak to the boy’s guardian. I can’t give you information otherwise.”

Victor wanted to protest but Yakov interrupted before he could, “During this trip, I’m his guardian. He’s my student and I’m responsible for his well being.”

The officer nodded, taking in the older man’s assured tone, and when the doctor finally came towards them, he let him speak to them.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Gerardo Clason, I’m the one in charge and you must be here for…” He looked down at his chart and then back up, “Mr. Plisetsky?”

They both nodded and waited for the doctor to continue. But he first exchanged some words in Spanish with the officer that they didn’t really understand and when the officer was satisfied with whatever the doctor had told him, Dr. Clason turned his attention back to them.

“First of all,” He began, “Despite the nature of his injuries we’ve managed to stabilize him for the time being. However, he received a large impact to his head and had to be operated on immediately earlier this morning. Besides this, he has broken three ribs, his left leg, and his right arm is dislocated.” He paused, watching as anxiety took over the men’s faces and he felt saddened at the way their shoulders slumped more and more as he informed him of the kid’s injuries. He only felt worse at what he was going to say next, “Though we’ve managed to keep him stable until now, the next twenty-four hours are crucial. He had internal bleeding in his cranium and this might cause him to take a downhill turn. It would be best if you called his family and let them know to prepare for the worst.”

Victor and Yakov were left in complete disbelief.

_Die…_ Yuri could…die?

And there was nothing he could do about it.

_I’m sorry Vitya. I’m so sorry._ His father was saying, his tears falling down his cheeks. The bright daisies—his mother’s favorite—on the bedside table made such a sharp contrast against the pale walls and the off white curtains and bedding. He could feel his gold medal—his heavy, repugnant medal—pressing against his chest. He could feel the hollowness settle in his soul. 

He could see Yuri’s vibrant green eyes under the neon lights, his cheeks pink, his hair in disarray, his breathing heavy, and his skin shining because of his exertion. 

_I hate you. I hate you so much, Victor. I wish I’d never met you._ The words reverberated in his cranium and Victor felt his breath cut. This was all his fault. He could still see his face, the way it had looked so _hurt_ before he turned, before he ran. His hands began to shake, and the air couldn’t get to his lungs fast enough, his vision blurred, and it began to fill with little black dots until it overtook everything. He was left in the dark and the weight of all his _wrong_ decisions seemed to drown him.

“Sir!” The doctor said, noting the panic attack that was overtaking him. “You need to breathe, concentrate on the sound of my voice.”

Victor tried, he really did, but he could only see in his mind's eye, Yuri’s eyes looking at him, and the crushed pretty daisies on the floor of his mother’s hospital room. 

“Nurse!” The doctor shouted as the officer helped Yakov take a seat. It had been bad enough to listen to the list of injuries Yuri had suffered—injuries that would probably force the boy to retire from figure skating. But that was nothing in comparison to being told he would never open his eyes again. What was he going to tell Nikolai?

Yakov tried to force himself to relax, he thanked the officer for his help because if he hadn’t been there, Yakov is sure he would have hit the floor too. But Victor’s panic attack was enough, he couldn’t add to everyone’s inconvenience.

He saw as a nurse approached with a syringe in her hand, handing it to the doctor as they both sat Victor down, and he pressed it to his arm. And as he saw his student’s head loll to the side, Yakov was almost jealous. He wished he could also turn his eyes away from this and not have to deal with it.

A memory from long ago surfaced in his mind, Victor faking smiles and trying to keep his tears from spilling over for an entire month after his mother’s death. Victor laughing and waving off the concerns of his other rink mates. Victor, always pretending.

“Are you alright sir?” The officer asked, and Yakov nodded. His hands were shaking and he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to stand on his own. Victor was placed in a gurney and somehow, Yakov forced strength into his legs.

The nurse took Victor to a small empty room for the time being and after making noting its location, Yakov turned to the officer. 

“Can I see him?” He croaked, his throat dry. He gave Victor one last look, who even in unconsciousness looked anything but calm, _Selfish as always, Victor,_ he thinks, tiredly, _leaving an old man to deal with the fallout._

The doctor looked at him worriedly, probably thinking he was on the verge of collapsing too. Yakov wanted to laugh for a moment, _But how could he abandon his kids when they both needed him the most?_ No, Yakov would not turn away from this and run to the refuge sleep could give him.

He looked at the doctor, waiting for him to lead the way to Yuri.

“The ICU is on the third floor,” The doctor said, finally, and he began to lead the way down the hall until they reached an elevator. They entered and when they reached the third floor they stepped out and continued down the hall until they stopped at room number two hundred forty-three. The doctor opened the door.

Inside, the room was separated into two parts by a glass panel. Yakov saw, through the clear glass Yuri on the bed, connected to various machines, his leg in a cast and raised, and even from the distance, he could see the bruises on his face that contrasted terribly with the paleness of his skin. His hair had been cut and shaved from one side because of the operation of his head wound. 

Yakov leaned against the glass, pressing his hand to it when he took in the state of his student. Just two days ago he had seen him on the rink, demonstrating fierce determination and a skating talent so amazing it had won him a gold medal on his _debut._ And then, with his gala that no one had seen before he had shown greatness that few could only ever hope to achieve at his age. And now…now he was here, in a hospital bed, on the verge of death.

“How did it happen?” He asked, wondering if the doctor knew, after all, that was something the officer should be answering and he was still downstairs with Victor. The sedative that they had administered wasn’t too strong, he would wake in about thirty minutes.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” The doctor said, looking at the patient with sadness, “Some kids had closed the street for racing and he somehow ended up there just as they were passing through.”

Yakov nodded, not asking about what had happened to the kids that had caused this. Instead, he observed the boy he had taken under his wing, the boy he was supposed to make great, and felt that he had failed him. 

His phone rang and he excused himself.

He answered, “Hello Lilia…”

The day had just started and Yakov already wanted it to end.

* * *

_He remembers the cold breeze coming in through his window, the smell of flowers the only indication that spring was just around the corner._

_“It’s time to get up, sweetheart,” His mother’s soft voice came and he felt her brush her fingers through his hair. He opened his eyes barely._

_“It’s still early,” He complained, blinking his eyes until he got used to the light the sun was beginning to pour through his window._

_His mother only smiled and poked his cheek, “You know how much it bothers Yakov when you’re late, Vitya. Besides, you farther and I are planning on going to see the program you’ve been practicing so hard on these past few days.” She moved to stand up and winced._

_“Are you alright?” He asked when he saw the way her face scrunched in pain. Her blue eyes flashed with something he couldn’t quite identify and she gave him one of her usual bright smiles. If at that moment, Victor would have been more aware he would have seen how the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. If he had been less worried about perfecting the program that would win him his second gold medal he would have noticed how tired and pale she was becoming by the days. But at that moment, he only saw the smile full of love and pride that his mother always gave him._

_“Of course,” She said, “It’s just that time of the month.” She laughed when she saw the way Victor gave a huff at that answer._

_Months later, Victor would come to realize that his mother was good at lying and hiding her pain._

* * *

Victor flinched when he woke. The light of the day made him fling an arm over his face.

“Are you feeling better?” A voice asked, and he recognized it to be the officers. He removed his arm from his face and looked up to find the direction the voice was coming from. The officer offered him a tentative smile.

“Better,” Victor murmured and he tried giving the officer one of his usual smiles.

“Your companion went to see Mr. Plisetsky,” He told him as Victor rose from the bed.

The reminder of why he was here made his stomach twist and he felt his shoulders tense. He clenched his trembling fists, cursing lowly in Russian, he couldn’t have another panic attack. He’d already left Yakov to deal with this mess because of his incompetence once, he wasn’t planning on doing it again. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down.

When the officer saw that he had regained his bearings somewhat he cleared his throat and Victor turned his eyes to him.

“About the incident with Mr. Plisetsky,” He began, his taking on a professional edge, “The boy responsible has been detained and his family has agreed to pay for all the medical expenses as well as offer compensation to his family. You can still press charges, of course…”

Victor didn’t really want to think about what the other person was feeling right now, when Yuri, _his_ kitten was laying on a hospital bed.

“…however due to the fact that there were traces of alcohol in Mr. Plisetsky's system it might complicate the proceedings. Which leads me to ask, why was he left alone when he was in such a state?” 

The officer looked at Victor in the eyes, the question hanging in the air, and the silver-haired man turned his gaze down. 

How to explain to this stranger that it had been his fault? How to account for every single thing that had happened in the last two years that all lead to this disastrous moment? How to tell him that it had been Victor’s overwhelming, destructive love that had caused this?

“I don’t know,” He finally said, looking out the window of the room. The sky was infinitely blue and clear, a sharp contrast to the emotions that were brewing in his heart.

The officer took note of every emotion that passed the foreigner's face before they completely shuttered off. He didn’t want to be asking these things, but he had to get the answers.

“Why are you currently in Spain?” He asked, finally. 

Victor gave him a slight smile, “We’re professional figure skaters representing the Russian Federation,” Victor tried and failed miserably to hold on to the one thing that up until that point had made everything make sense. “Yuri…he—he just had his Senior debut and yesterday was the closing banquet and…”

The words got stuck in his throat and a tear escaped his eye. 

_Don’t you get tired of smiling all the time?_ Yuri had asked him once, he had been frowning and he was complaining about how exasperating Victor’s sickeningly sweet personality was. It seemed as though he’d seen right through Victor’s fake smiles. He hadn’t known what to respond at the time and Yuri had shaken his head like Victor was a petulant child. But he hadn’t waited for an answer and instead grabbed Victor’s hand in his own, his cheeks had pinked, he pulled him along, his face never turning to look up at him. He seemed to be trying to say, without words, _You don’t have to pretend all the time, I’m not going anywhere._ Victor had found himself speechless and touched that this kid had offered him more comfort than other people in Victor’s life. He’d offered Victor a chance to be himself, without the masks and without the constant need to please.

_My mask has cracked right down the middle, kitten. And you’re not here to see it._ He brushes away the tear that had fallen. He took a breath and turned to the officer. He wasn’t going to cry, not if Yuri wasn’t here to tell him how stupid he was acting. “He won gold.”

Victor shook his head, clearing his throat, he really felt terrible and he only wanted to have Yuri by his side.

“I’d like to see him, if you don’t mind,” He finally said, standing.

“Of course,” The officer said, leading him out of the room and into the hallways that led to the room Yuri was in.

* * *

_At four, Yuri knew his mom loved him, but he also knew that he wasn’t a wanted child. It was clear as day, after all, his mother was always out and the closest thing he had to a father was his grandfather. His mother was rarely home and when she was home, she avoided him._

_“You have to stop acting like a child, Yelena!” It was the first time he’d heard his grandfather raise his voice at her and use her full given name, “He’s your son!”_

_“You know I didn’t want to have him!” She screamed back in a harsh tone, and Yuri hadn't been able to identify it until much later that is was contempt, “I would have aborted—“_

_In the next instant, he heard a harsh slap resound in the distance. His mother had stormed out of the living room, her hand on her cheek, and her eyes filled with tears. She froze when she caught sight of him. After a few moments, she took a deep breath and though there was sadness and guilt in her gaze, she was more resolute than ever._

_“I’m sorry, Yura. I really am.” She told him as she turned and walked out the door._

_Despite only being four years and his short comprehension he knew his mother was leaving. He tried running after her, he called out to her and cried for her to stay but she didn’t turn back. Not once. He had never been good enough to keep his mother with him._

_All that was left of her was the delicate features he had inherited from her. His grandfather had run to pick him up when he realized Yuri had seen her leave. He tried to console him, but Yuri’s heart was broken and the awful sensation his mother had caused would stay with him for many years to come._

* * *

Victor observed with rapt attention the people that were at the airport. He looked at his watch and then the screen that announced the flights that were arriving. Nikolai Plisetsky’s flight had just landed. He stood and watched the gates as he waited for Yuri’s grandfather. It had been fourteen hours since the accident and though Victor had insisted he would go to Russia to personally escort him back, Yuri’s grandfather had shot him down.

“ _I’ll speak to Lena and go with her,” He sounded tired and weary. Victor had tensed at the mention of Yuri’s mother and a disdainful sigh had escaped his lips before he could stop himself. He had only ever met the woman two times and two times was enough for the rest of his life. Nikolai had chuckled but there wasn’t much amusement in his voice, “I know…but she’s his mother…”_

Nikolai had sounded so hopeful so Victor had not dared say anything.

He refocuses his sight on the gates that let the passengers through and it took him a moment to finally find the old man. His face was pale and he looked as though he had aged severely in the span of a day. When the old man met his gaze, his eyes lit up in recognition and he offered him a sad, tired smile.

Victor noted, with burning frustration, that Nikolai was alone.

“Hello son,” Nikolai greeted when he was right in front of him. His voice tired and Victor knew he had not slept at all since receiving the news. 

“I’m sorry we had to reunite under these circumstances,” Victor murmured, taking the old man’s luggage from him.

Nikolai looked thankful but didn’t say anything else as they made their way out.

They finally made it to the parking lot where Victor’s rented car awaited them. He observed as Nikolai got in and made himself comfortable.

“Would you like to—“ Victor started only to be interrupted by the older man’s hand on his arm.

“I want to see my grandson,” He said, leaving no room for argument. Victor swallowed the knot in his throat when he remembered Yuri’s state and what this tired old man was going to see. But the nodded and he began the drive to the hospital.

* * *

_The first time Victor decided he wanted to figure skate he was six years old. His mother loved ballet and every weekend they would attend the shows at the Bolshoi theater, or the Kremlin Ballet, or the Stanislavski. She enjoyed the stories that were told through music and dancing. He had been practicing ballet for a year by that time and his parents never missed any of his performances, always in the first row, so proud of him and giving him the motivation he needed to be better every day._

_He could say that the love he had for ballet came from what his mother had nurtured in him. But for his sixth birthday, his parents had taken him to a small figure skating competition. And he remembers with stark clarity the enthusiastic crowd whose eyes were on the ice. His parents, just like when he performed, had bought seats in the first row. He could see each of the competitors in their pretty costumes without anyone obstructing his view._

_He held his breath when the first skater took the ice, and the third movement of the fortieth symphony “Menuetto, Allegretto-Trio” by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart started to play. He knew at that moment exactly what he wanted to do._

_It was like ballet, the music, the poses, but there was more. It was the way the bodies of the competitors moved and how they presented stories gliding across the ice. And with the addition of the jumps that made his breath catch in his throat as they twisted in the air before landing on the ice it was simply…amazing._

_After each performance was over, he had clapped with enthusiasm._

_“Did you like it, sweetheart?” His mother asked when the competition was done. The boy was completely smitten and he could picture himself on the ice, doing those impressive jumps._

_“It was amazing, Mama,” He said, his smile wide as he launched into a spiel of why he had liked it. When he was finally done, his eyes shone and he announced, “I want to ice skate!”_

_His mother smiled and caressed his cheek._

_“I wanted to do it once too,” She smiled a little nostalgically and shook her head. Her blue eyes found those of her husband and with a resigned smile she said, “I’ll look for a place where Vitya can skate.”_

_A few days later, his father took him to his first lesson._

* * *

The sound of the clock was the only thing that could be heard in the room.

It had almost been twenty-four hours and Victor didn’t know how to feel about it. 

_Will Yuri wake up once the twenty-four hours are over?_ Nikolai had asked the doctor as soon as he could. His eyes were bloodshot red and his hands trembled after he had finally seen his grandson. 

_It’s a little more complicated than that since it is a wound on his head,_ The doctor had sighed, _If his state doesn't change there’s a high probability that he won’t…gain consciousness._

When he had been told that, Victor and Yakov had to hold the old man when his legs almost gave out under him. Death or never waking up, the two options were horrible and the most likely to happen. Victor’s eyes filled with tears and he had to blink away them before they poured out.

“Here,” Yuuri said, making Victor startle. The Japanese man handed him a disposable cup filled with coffee. He took a seat beside him, he took a sip of the hot beverage and asked, “Has there been any updates on Yuri?”

“No,” Victor said, his voice quiet, not wanting to disturb the silence. He stared at his murky reflection in the coffee. The steam rose from the beverage, it’s tendrils disappearing until he couldn’t see it anymore. _Couldn’t see…anymore…_ the words resounded in his head and a shiver ran the length of his spine, he had to hold the cup tightly, so it wouldn’t slip out of his hold. He drank it as fast as he could, burning the inside of his cheeks.

“He’s going to be fine, right?” Mila asked, her voice broken and the bags under her eyes dark. She was calm now, but every few moments she would curl into herself and cry. Lilia had been consoling her, but at the current moment, she was away, praying in the hospital chapel.

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,_ Mila had cried since the moment she had found out what happened. And when Yuri’s grandfather had arrived at the hospital, she had cried and told him it was all her fault, _I’m sorry, he was so sad and I wanted to—to cheer him up and I gave him champagne and I—I should have followed him. I should’ve gone with him—I’m sorry._

She only seemed to cry harder when the older man patted her head and pulled her into a hug, _It’s not your fault,_ he told her, pulling away and looking at her in the eyes, _It was an accident. No one thought this could happen._

After that, he had gone to see his grandson and hadn’t left his side only leaving the room when the doctors checked Yuri’s vitals. 

“I’m sure he’ll make it through,” Yuuri said, trying to comfort her, “He’s strong.”

"Yuuri's right,” Yakov agreed. He looked dead tired, but his eyes didn’t have any doubts that Yuri wouldn’t return to them. Victor turned his eyes away, he wanted to have the same confidence they had but a sharp sting in his chest didn’t let him be so optimistic. He stood up, trying to dispel the crippling helplessness that wanted to take him over. He threw his cup in the trash and made his way to the elevator. 

“Victor?” Yuuri called after him, but he didn’t turn and only kept walking. Victor knew he was worried but he couldn’t stay there another second.

“I’m going to see if Nikolai needs anything.” He told him, just as he entered the elevator and finally turned to meet Yuuri’s eyes. He gave him a slight smile as the door closed and Yuuri gave him a smile in return, but his eyes were filled with uncertainty. As soon as the door closed, Victor leaned against the wall, his smile falling and his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“He’s going to be…” The doors opened and the words died in his tongue as he watched the nurses move quickly in the hallway of the Intensive Care Unit. He started walking down the corridor, wishing it was longer. 

_And mom? Is she alright? Will she be able to make it to my next competition?_ He remembers the almost childish giddiness that overtook him when he had seen his father at Yakov’s side when he was done with his practice. He had run to him, hugging him and questioning him as soon as he let go.

His father smiled at him and said, lying through his teeth, _She’s good. She just has to rest for a while._

The lies kept piling up and up and when it was impossible for them to hide it, it was too late and Victor could do nothing about it.

He stood for a moment before Yuri’s door and was forced to take in a steadying breath. He opened the door and avoided looking at the panel of glass that divided the seating area from were Yuri was resting, looking as though he was a specimen from another world.

When he was unable to ignore the situation he shoved his hands in his pocket to hide their shakiness. He raised his eyes and bile threatened to rise his throat, keeping his frustration and tears at bay only became harder.

Yuri’s grandfather hadn’t noticed him yet, and he was singing a Russian lullaby that Victor hadn’t heard in a long time.

"Стану сказывать я сказки, Песенку спою; Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки, Баюшки-баю."

Nikolai’s voice was shaky and it resounded all over the room, it made Victor’s heart constrict in his chest. 

_You’re going to be the brightest star in the rink,_ his mother had told him the first time he had a competition. 

And the afternoon she had said her final goodbye, _Keep shining…_ she said as her voice softly said and then, an empty, overbearing silence. 

“Victor?” Nikolai’s voice came, pulling him out of his memories, “Are you alright?”  


Victor blinked, embarrassed at having been caught unguarded, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard that song.” He said, instead, his voice nostalgic, “Yura used to hum it a lot.”

Nikolai smiles slightly, turning to look at his grandson, “It used to be the only song that would put him to sleep.” He told Victor, “He used to be so restless," He let out a laugh that turned into a sob, “My little boy…” He said, his voice getting stuck in his throat and his tears rolling down his cheeks.

It made Victor remember… 

_I love you_ Yuri’s voice hadn’t wavered, and he held his head high but his ears had been flushed red and Victor’s heart had stuttered and he was left speechless. 

_I—_ He remembers the words wouldn’t leave his mouth and after a tense moment, he'd fallen back on his usual antics. He gave him a fake condescending smile and Yuri had blinked, taken aback, his shoulders slumping slightly, before giving shaky laugh. _I-I still think you’re an idiot though._

That had been three days before Victor left for Japan. Fear had taken root in his heart and he had fled the moment the opportunity arose. Yuri was like the sun, and he could no longer continue to feed off him.

The heart monitor, which had been steadily beeping, began to insistently beep as both Nikolai and him panicked. 

Victor ran out, throwing the door open, "Someone!" He shouted, "Help!"

A nurse that was passing by asked, "What's wrong?"

"He-he's-" Victor began and but she was already making her way inside and when she saw the monitor flatlining she cursed before pressing the emergency button. The room was flooded with other nurses and doctor's in an instant.

One of them corraled them out, "You must wait out here."

Desperation and fear overtook Nikolai and Victor's hearts like a wave dragging them into the deep, dark, and bottomless ocean. 

* * *

_It was freezing and the snow fell without stopping. He was wearing a thick coat but the coldness seems to still find his skin. But Yuri didn’t care about all this, not when he could feel his mother holding his hand._

_“You’re going to love it, Lena,” His mother’s new boyfriend was saying._

_“I’m sure I will,” His mother answered, her voice lovestruck and Yuri resisted the urge to gag._

_He hated his mother’s constant boyfriends, especially since she seemed to give them more attention than she gave him. But since Andrei, he’d started to see more of her smile so Yuri played nice when he was with them. He’d do anything to keep his mother happy._

_The rink was full and Yuri was amazed at the number of people that were there. They waded through the crowd to find their seats and as they walked he saw people surround a teen with a sparkling costume that reminded Yuri of the outfits he sometimes wore for his ballet performances. They finally found their spots and Yuri was able to see all the competitors when they came out into the rink. He was amazed at all their performances but it wasn’t until one particular person stepped into the rink, that the crowd around him started to make more noise._

_“And now taking the ice, the up and coming Russian representative, Victor Nikiforov!” The announcer said as the rink was flooded in applause._

_During his entire routine, Yuri was unable to take his eyes off the older boy. He watched him skate across the ice and perform the most intense and beautiful story Yuri had ever seen._

_“That was amazing!” His mother exclaimed, moved to tears, when the performance was over and she clapped and smiled in a way that Yuri had never seen directed at him._

_He thought that if he did what that older boy had just done, one day, she might smile at him like that too._

_Two days later, he told his grandfather he wanted to learn how to ice skate_

* * *

The bright light that was coming in through the windows did nothing to disturb the old man from his slumber, who, even unconscious, had not let go of his grandson’s hand.

Yuri opened his eyes slowly and winced them back closed. The light made his head pound and he felt his entire body weighing him down, he felt like he’d been run over by a pack of elephants.

He tried to move but he only managed a pained moan.

Almost simultaneously, the door of the room opened, and a man entered, and when his eyes met Yuri’s he let out a sound of surprise.

“ _Yura…_ ” He said, as if his name was something to be said in reverence, looking as though he was seconds away from crying. Yuri felt something familiar about him but before he could say anything the man was backing away and leaving just as suddenly as he had come.

Yuri tried to move again and he felt a sharp pain on his side. 

_What the hell is going on?_ He thought to himself. Did that man go in search of a...doctor? He moved his head, the only thing that didn’t cause him pain, and he felt someone squeeze his left hand. It was his grandfather, looking so massively relieved and happy.

“I’m so—I’m so glad you’re awake,” He said, his voice trembling and though Yuri recognized him, he seemed completely different, as if he had suddenly aged.

He was about to ask his grandfather what was going on when the door opened again.

“The doctor’s on his way,” The same man from earlier said. Yuri observed him for a long moment, he couldn’t remember where he’d seen this man before .

Victor could feel Yuri looking at him and he smiled, waiting—wishing—that he would frown and say _What are you looking at old man?_ but Yuri only reddened and turned his face to his grandfather.

“What am I doing here?” He asked, his voice dry.

Victor moved to grab him some water as his grandfather explained the situation to Yuri.

And Yuri understood nothing, he could barely process what his grandfather was saying. Victor saw as a myriad of emotions crossing Yuri’s face and when the silence fell over them again, Yuri turned to look at him again and confusion overtook his face.

“I get why my grandfather’s here,” He said, “But…who are you?”

For a moment, Victor thought he was making a horribly timed joke, but Yuri’s face didn’t change, and Victor felt his heart drop as he came to the slow realization that Yuri might’ve lost his memories. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!  
> see you next week!  
> also, the original author of this story is here on AO3 too, and she reads your comments, so be sure to let her know if you're liking the story.


	3. The Evening Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, story isn't mine. I'm just translating to bring you some Victurio goodness. lolololol.

* * *

**Memory Lane**

_by: Miss. Breakable Butterfly_

_**The Evening Sun** _

* * *

_When Victor turned seventeen, his mother had been taken to the hospital due to a sharp abdominal pain she had been having._

_That day, he was ardently practicing to finally win gold at the Grand Prix at the senior level. Last year he had ended in second place and while that was a good achievement in and of itself, he yearned—hungered like a starved man—for gold. He’d been at the rink for the majority of that morning, trying to perfect his program, when his phone rang._

_“Hello Victor,” His father’s said, his voice trembling, and instantly, the alarm bells went off in Victor’s head._

_“What’s wrong?” He asked, without really wanting to know the answer. His father only sighed heavily into the receiver and Victor swallowed thickly, he felt his knees about to give under him and an oppressing sensation settled in his chest._

_“Your mother’s in the hospital,” He answered._

_“Wh-what?” He stuttered, taking in a slow breath as the air seemed to be too dense for his lungs._

_“It’s nothing that you have to worry about,” His father tried reassuring, “She fainted and they’re going to run some tests, just to make sure everything is fine.” Though he tried to downplay the situation, there was something in his father’s voice that didn’t offer Victor any comfort. “I just wanted to let you know because we might be late picking you up.”_

_“Oh, well that works out perfectly because I was planning on staying after practice for a while.” He quickly answered his voice light, a sharp contrast to the way he felt._

_“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” His father finally says after a while, his voice back to that firm and stable tone Victor has always been used to, as if the worry he was feeling earlier was only something Victor had imagined, “Work hard!”_

_After he’s said his goodbyes he stares at his phone,_ _Victor barely manages to keep from giving a sigh of relief that his father's no longer sounded so...not himself._ _Had it really been worry in his voice? Maybe he was overthinking things._ _Victor shakes his head and runs a hand through his long hair. He couldn’t start speculating now, there was probably nothing to worry about, it could even be good news…his parents had always talked about having more kids and his mother had always wanted a little girl to pamper._

_And well, he’d always wanted to be an older brother, it would—_

_“VICTOR!” Yakov shouts, “Get back on the ice! You need to stop getting distracted if you plan on winning this year!”_

_Victor waves his hand, smiling, “I’m going, I’m going.” His blue eyes shine in mischief already hoping his parents give him the good news, “And don’t be so angry all the time, you’re going to end up looking like a ninety-year-old man.”_

_“Brat.”_

_Victor throws his head back and laughs. For a moment he forgets his father’s call and pours himself into the ice to illustrate a beautiful story._

* * *

Victor swallows a knot in his throat, the relief he felt at seeing his kitten awake is suddenly overshadowed by what the terrible accident might have caused.

“It’s Victor,” Nikolai is the one who answers, his voice careful, as he observes his grandson with worry.

Yuri blinks, there’s a strange emotion in running inside his chest, it’s similar to what he felt when he thought about his relationship with his mother and at the same time not.

“Victor?” He asks, confused. The name seemed familiar and at the same time foreign on his lips. His green eyes searched the blues of the older man and his heart gave a painful lurch. There was something like longing, pain, and admiration mixed with something he couldn't place when he looked at him. He turned his eyes away, embarrassed.

As he took in his grandfather’s worried face he clicked his tongue and frowned.

“Is he one of Lena’s boyfriends?” He finally asked, his voice hard and he refused to look at the other man. He hated the men his mother went out with. Hated that they had her attention and he didn’t and for always breaking her heart when they left.

His grandfather opened his mouth to respond but that’s when the doctor finally pulled open the door. 

“It’s good you’re awake,” He told Yuri in English. He looked around the room to Nikolai and then to Victor and asked them to please step out of the room.

“Can you tell me your full name?”  It's the last thing they heard as the door closed behind them. Victor leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to hide the way they trembled. 

Besides him, Nikolai was pale, why had Yuri not recognized Victor?

The answer to that could be a number of things and he was terrified of what that could mean.

* * *

Victor still couldn’t believe what was happening. Yuri simply _couldn’t_ have forgotten him. How was that possible?

_I wish I’d never met you._

The words Yuri said to him that night came back with a vengeance to haunt him.

Was this some form of punishment?

_Don’t be a hypocrite. This is what you wanted, isn’t that right?_ His A voice in his head said and Victor wanted to deny it, _You say no, but there were many times you wished for it, remember?_

He wanted to argue with himself it but it was true. He, too, had moments where he wished he’d never met Yuri, because then, maybe everything would have been much simpler. His engagement with Irina wouldn’t have broken, his skating wouldn’t have suffered, and he would have never discovered the dark place inside him. That egoistical part of him that wanted to consume and tear Yuri apart at the same time. To keep his attention firmly on him, not letting him look away. He wouldn't feel like he was trapped between a steel wall and the sword of Damocles at his neck because of the fine line between morality and depravity he seemed to be constantly walking. There had been times when he felt too tired to fight against the grain and he only wished to leave behind the fondness he felt toward Yuri. Going to Japan had been an impulse primarily driven to get away from Yurio and all the things he entailed.

But now, confronted with the fact that Yuri didn’t remember anything about him— _about them—_ it terrorized him.

“What happened?” The hand that comes to rest on his shoulder makes him jump. 

He blinks, a little lost, and comes to face Yuuri, who has a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

It would all have been much easier if Yuuri had come into his life sooner. He was sweet, easy to love and easy to impress, and even though that last thing sounded dumb, Victor knew how egocentric he could be and he loved being the center of attention, and above all, they didn’t have such a large age gap. Yes, things would have definitely been easier if he could feel for Yuuri what he felt for Yuri. But, even the attention he had given to the Japanese man had been because of the interest Yuri had taken to him as a skater.

_He’s a total loser,_ Yuri had said, back then, at thirteen. Yuri was already a prodigy, with the promise of greatness for Russian figure skating, and yet, Victor had seen how his eyes had followed the Japanese representative that day so long ago. He’d felt a surge of jealousy rise in him because until then, Yuri had not looked at anyone but him with that type of focus and admiration.

_Oh! Little Yuratchka is in love,_ he’d teased, as he watched his cheeks burn, and Yuri turned his annoyed eyes to him, and then to the screens that showed the scores.

_You’re an idiot,_ He spitted and without looking at him he started walking to the changing rooms, _Don’t you need to get ready for your turn?_

Victor’s eyes had lingered on the Japanese man, trying to see what had caught the attention of his prospective future student. He’d been thoroughly amused when later, he found that the Japanese skater was also a big fan of his, and maybe the reason Yuri had been fascinated with him was that he tried imitating Victor.

But, he’d learned much later, that Yuri had seen something in the Japanese boy that Yuuri didn’t even see in himself.

“Yurio’s awake,” Victor finally said, simply and giving Yuuri a slight smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s great news!” Yuuri exclaimed, his eyes bright and smiling a large relieved smile.

The past few days had been hard, after the scare Victor and Nikolai went through when they witnessed Yuri going into cardiac arrest. His condition hadn’t changed much and Yurio had continued to be unconscious and there was no way to tell how long he would be asleep. There had been passing moments when Yuuri had been fearful that Yurio wouldn’t wake up, _at all_. But once again, Yuri had shown the tenaciousness that Yuuri both admired and coveted.

“Can I go see him?” The dark-haired man asks, this time turning his eyes to Nikolai.

“The doctor is with him right now, but when he’s done we can go see him,” Nikolai says.

And though Nikolai is still concerned that Yuri seemingly didn't recognize Victor, nothing compared to the elation he felt knowing that, after eighteen long, hopeless days, Yuri had finally woken up.

* * *

_ The afternoon breeze caressed his cheeks and made locks of blond hair fall over his eyes. He didn’t move to get them out of the way, instead, his focus was on the people below. From where he stood they almost seemed like ants, all moving quickly from one place to another, avoiding each other because of their work._

_ “Yuri!” Victor’s exclamation pulled him out of his thoughts, he hadn’t heard him come in, “What are you doing here?” _

_ He brushed his hair away from his face and gave him a sneer. Makkachin, who up until that point, had been sitting at Yuri’s feet as he stared out down the balcony, jumped up, and went to greet his owner. Victor didn’t even question how Yuri had managed to get into his apartment and it would only be the next day when he would remember to ask and Yuri would get on to him for being a careless old dumbass._

_ “I need your help, old man,” Yuri said, his voice firm and his eyes flashing in determination and a bit desperation…maybe. _

_ Victor looked him up and down and something stirred inside him, something dark and ugly that he didn't want to stop and think about because it would only cause him a headache. _ _ “Help?” He asked, taking note of how the light of the afternoon came in through the balcony door and illuminated Yuri’s form and gave him an angelic view. He swallowed, and shifted his eyes away, “With what?” _

_ Yuri just let out a heavy sigh, and his eyes turned back to the people below. _

_ “I need to find an apartment in the city.” He said, finally, his voice distant and he refused to turn to look at Victor in the eye, “Nothing pretentious like yours, of course.” _ _He jabbed at his eccentricities but it fell on deaf ears. _

_ “An apartment?” Victor asked, a frown on his face, and Yuri turned to look at him again, “For your grandfather and you?” His blue eyes searched Yuri’s face but Yuri wouldn't quite meet his gaze and seemed to be looking at a fixed point over Victor's shoulder. _

_ “No, just me.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant and he almost laughs at the way he hears Victor let out a sound of unbelief. But humor was the furthest thing from his mind. _

_ Yuri? Living alone? In St. Petersburg? Just thinking about the possibility made a shiver run down Victor's spine. He could disappear into a crowd and never be seen again. _

_ “Why?” The older man asked, wondering what Yuri's grandfather must be thinking, letting Yuri live alone. He was a child, for God’s sake. _

_ Yuri shifted his weight from one foot to another, and asked instead, _ _ “Where’s Irina?”  _

_ Victor clicked his tongue at the mention of his girlfriend's name as it instantly reminded of his problems. Yuri was trying to change the subject. _

_ “I don’t know,” He answered, honestly, and he came closer, “Yura…” He called softly, noting how tense the boy had been through their whole conversation._

_ “Don’t be so condescending!” Yuri spitted, suddenly angry. He looked up at him and without being at all aware tears had escaped the corners of his eyes. Yuri didn’t need his pity or concern. And he definitely didn’t need people treating him like a child. He was in charge of his family’s household expenses for over a year now, “I’m not a child! I don't need—“ _

_ He shut his mouth shut and just as easily as his anger had come, it evaporated. It left him trembling with an onslaught of tears running down his cheeks. It wasn’t Victor he was angry at, he didn't want to take it out on him, and more than that, he needed his help. _

_ Victor felt a vague sadness and helplessness in the situation. Yuri didn’t often act like a child, though he did have the egoistic tendencies of one, but for completely different reasons, so to see him now, it just pulled at his heartstrings. He sighed, he didn’t know what was so bad currently that made Yuri decide to leave his grandfather and move but he wouldn’t leave the kid to deal with it alone. _

_ He pulled him close, and though Yuri tensed at first, after a while he relaxed against him. _

_ “We’ll find the prettiest apartment for you,” Victor said lightly and Yuri hesitantly nodded eventually. _

_ “But pretty?" He asked feigning annoyance. "Do I look like a girl to you?” _

_ “Of course not,” Victor responded resolutely, and then with a teasing smile he continued, “You’re a grumpy kitten.” _

_ Yuri clicked his tongue in irritation and frowned, causing Victor to let out an amused laugh. As Yuri looked up at him, though, Victor's smile softened._

_ "Thanks," Yuri murmured, and as he looked up, his gaze didn't leave Victor, and again, the older noticed how the light of the sun made the hair on Yuri's hair glow. He was something out unreachable, delicate, always far away....but right now...he was here. _

_"It's no problem," Victor responded, his voice low, unconsciously grabbing Yuri's face in his hands and wiping the tears with his thumbs. The blond's lips were beautifully shaped, a pretty pink, and he was sure that if he touched them they would be soft and—_

_Yuri held his breath, as he watched Victor watching him, and when his eyes rose from his lips, he waited—for—for what? He didn't know, all he knew was that his gaze made something in stomach flutter._

_"—Vitya," A woman's voice came and Victor let Yuri go as if he was something burning when he realized what he was about to do._

_"Yes?" He asked with a thick, strangled breath. He heard her approaching, her heels clicking on the floor, as Yuri wiped away the rest of his tears and his expression shuttered close._

_"Oh!" She said, when she saw Yuri there, "I didn't know you were busy."_

_"No," Yuri cuts, "I was just leaving." Already making his way to the door. For some odd reason, Yuri suddenly didn't want to be in the same room as her._

_"Yura..." Victor called after him but Yuri refused to turn._

_"It's fine." He said, knowing that Victor wouldn't leave him alone if he thought they weren't okay. He turned, giving them a wave in goodbye._

_Victor just watched as Makkachin followed after him, leading him out of the apartment, and it made him a little amused. Yuri didn't really like dogs, he tended to wrinkle his nose in distaste at them, but he always petted and played with Makkachin regardless._

_"Is everything alright?" Irina asks as Victor shifts his attention to her._

_"Of course." He answered, looking at the model's pretty face and smiling, he was glad she had shown up when she had, if not he feared that he might've done something he might later regret. "Everything's fine."_

_He leaned down to give her a kiss and she returned it, entangling her hands in his hair._

_Yuri was making his way out of the apartment when he caught sight of them. He felt something sour inside him, "That should've been me." He thought. He closed the door and ran a thumb over his lower lip. He shut his eyes tightly and frowned. Why did he want to kiss an old man like Victor?_

_The answer to that question was much closer to being answered than he realized at that moment. He'd learn that if it was Victor, he'd want to kiss him forever._

* * *

Yuri answered the doctor’s questions as best he could, but there was a strange feeling in his chest. He knew the doctor was speaking to him in English but from what he remembered, his English hadn’t progressed further than the basics, and yet he could understand what the man was saying perfectly.

When the doctor finally started asking him questions about the day of the accident, his head began to hurt, and he couldn’t remember anything. There was just a vague feeling of sadness and resignation that he seemed to associate with that day. Yuri observed him absentmindedly as the doctor took notes on his clipboard of everything that Yuri was saying. In the end, he nodded his head as if coming to a conclusion.

When Yuri was finally done telling him all that he remembered, which wasn’t much, the doctor gave him a soft smile as he stood up and checked his vitals one last time.

“You don’t have to worry too much,” He started to say, “It’s normal that you don’t quite remember everything, considering your injuries."

Yuri nodded in understanding, but a hollow trepidation took over his heart when he realized he couldn’t remember much about his life. The doctor finally took his leave, giving him one last wave, and Yuri found himself alone, trying to remember things about his life and failing.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the door opened, he hoped it was his grandfather because he had so many questions he wanted answered. If there was one thing he was sure of, even with all the holes in his memory, it was that his grandfather was a calming presence and he trusted him to fill in the holes that were in his memory and he would chase away the fear and uncertainty that had settled into him.

But instead, the door opened to reveal an Asian man with dark hair, flowers in his hands, and a timid smile.

“H-hi, Yurio,” he said, slow and careful.

Yuuri was trying to not appear as nervous as he felt. Victor and Nikolai had mentioned to him that Yuri didn’t remember Victor and he was a little cautious about how the _Russian punk_ was going to react to a stranger like him.

Yuri blinked, rapidly, trying to place a name to his face, he seemed familiar.

Yuuri met Yuri’s eyes and his eyes softened when he saw the younger boy’s face set into complete confusion and hesitance. He shifted from one foot to another, a tried to give him a friendly smile. Yuri still looked pale and the bruises in his face had begun to turn into an unattractive green. He came close to the bed, to the table where Nikolai had set a flower in a vase to give the sad room more color. He began to remove the ones that were dying and replacing them with the ones he had brought.

“You probably don’t remember who I am but—“ He was interrupted by Yuri.

“Katsudon?” He said, almost unconsciously, and Yuri stopped. From where did he remember that? “Sorry. I—“

“You remember?!” Yuuri exclaimed, coming close to Yuri, not realizing that the blond was startled.

“No—I—I don’t—“ The blond stuttered, looking nervously at how the man’s arms seemed to want to wrap him in a hug.

Yuuri backed away, embarrassed when he realized that he was making Yuri uncomfortable. He hadn’t expected to feel so relieved at Yuri remembering him.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, taking off his glasses as wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill for from his eyes, “I got too excited at the prospect of you remembering me...”

Yuri slowly let his tense shoulders relax, he felt a little bad at seeing how his mood had plummeted. He didn’t really know why.

“I—“ He began, only to stop abruptly. He swallowed not really knowing how to tell him that he didn’t remember him at all. But when the man looked at him with watery eyes, without his glasses, Yuri saw something through the dark haze of his memories.

* * *

_When Yuri turned twelve, he started to focus more on what he was more than sure was going to be his profession. He’d started to practice more and he observed his competition with critical eyes and the older skaters, especially. He analyzed them, trying to determine their potential and find the traits that made them stand out. So that year, he had made sure to be present at the Rostelecom cup that was taking place in Moscow, it was a great opportunity to see Victor._

_When the day finally came, he felt excitement running through his veins. The senior division was leagues above the small competitions he had been participating in up until that point._

_“Yuuri—“ A foreign voice said, and Yuri jumped, thinking it was him that was being called, frowning he looked around to see who it was but— “Do you remember what we said about your free skate?”_

_“Of course,” A young Japanese man said. From where he stood, Yuri could see how tense he was and how his eyes nervously flickered around to the other skaters in the rink. It reminded Yuri of the first time he had stepped into the ice as a competitor. He had felt scared and nervous at not meeting his own expectations and the expectations of his...mother._

_“It’s going to be fine, Yuuri.” The other Yuri’s coach continued. Yuri rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, he didn’t remember there ever being a skater with his own name. He looked totally pathetic and was probably one of the lower-ranked skaters. Maybe that’s why he didn’t remember him._

_Things seemed to clear at that thought, and with one last look at the other Yuri, he turned away, deciding to look for Yakov and Victor. He wanted to get a good seat and what better place than with the Russian team? Besides, Lena was busy with her newest boyfriend, he doubted she would notice Yuri’s absence at her side. His mood soured at that last thought and he finally made his way to were the team was. Yakov raised his eyebrows when he saw him take a seat right where he wasn’t supposed to be but Victor gave him a wink and a smile. Internally, he was just glad they hadn’t told him to go back to the stands. He was going to see this competition with front row seats._

_Unconsciously, through the entire time, he kept his eyes out for that Yuri from earlier. It was a little strange knowing that someone with his name was skating so he found himself wanting to see just what he could do. So when Yuuri began his program, Yuri was amazed at his complicated step sequence his routine had, but of course, he’d been disappointed to see his errors in his jumps. When Yuri left the rink, his interest had waned but he still wanted to know what it was about Yuuri that made his program interesting. So days later, he couldn’t stop himself from looking up information about him._

* * *

Yuri blinked, suddenly back in the present, and he felt his cheeks redden. He looked away from Yuuri.

“Do-do you feel okay? Should I call someone?” Yuuri asked anxiously, seeing how a myriad of emotions had crossed Yuri’s face in such a short time.

But Yuri only shook his head, looking up at him through his lashes, and giving him a shy smile.

Yuuri had never seen him smile like that and he felt his own cheeks heating up.

“You’re Katsuki Yuuri,” The blond began, hesitantly, without really meeting his eyes, “You’re a skater from Japan. From a small town called...Hasetsu?” He asked unsurely, and Yuuri gave a relieved smile and Yuri’s cheeks only seemed to pink more.

“I...” The rest of his words only seemed to get stuck in Yuri’s throat. Yuuri waited patiently for him to finish since he seemed to be trying to piece everything together on his own. The words came out in a rush after, “I really look up to you.”

Yuuri’s smile seemed to freeze on his face and he blinked rapidly. Yuri did what?

A flush overtook his cheeks and Yuuri opened and closed his mouth trying to find something to say to that. Was he dreaming? Did he suddenly enter an alternative reality?

“Ehh?” He finally managed, still incredulous. Yuri’s face slowly dropped into a frown.

“Don’t be such an idiot,” He snapped and then clicked his mouth shut. “I mean—“

Yuuri let out a little laugh and said, “That’s more like you.” He observed as Yuri shifted on his bed, his face still red, and turned to continue taking out the dead flowers from the vase. He said, almost to himself, “He never told me _that_...”

Yuri quirked his brows, glad that Yuuri wasn’t looking at him, and then something clicked in his head.

“So why are you here?” He asked as Yuuri finished with the flowers.

The dark-haired man finally turned to him and smiled, “That’s easy. I was worried about you. We’re friends, after all.”

Yuri felt a strange warmth all over his body and he gave Yuuri a hesitant smile in return.

* * *

When the doctor exited Yuri’s room, the three men looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell them something.

“I’d like to speak to you, Mr. Plisetsky,” He said to Nikolai, who only nodded, and then he turned to Victor and Yuuri and told them, “You can see him if you’d like. Just don’t overwhelm him with questions. But if he asks you anything try to be descriptive in your answers.”

They nodded and the doctor led Nikolai away from them.

Victor leaned against the wall, right next to the door of Yuri's room, and found himself hesitant, he didn’t know if he should enter the room or not. What was the point? Yuri didn’t remember him and maybe—maybe that was the best. Maybe this tragedy was a blessing in disguise for both of them. A new start for Yuri, for him, the point where their paths diverged. After all, wasn’t that what he had wanted? Isn’t that one of the reasons he left for Japan in the first place? Their relationship was doomed from the start. Maybe this would give Yuri the chance to find happiness away from Victor’s oppressive love.

“Are you coming?” Yuuri’s voice took him out of his head. His brown eyes looked at him strangely.

Victor gave him a small upturn of the lips, and shook his head, “I already saw him. And well, Yura—he doesn't—“ He pursed his lips and then continued, “I’ll just wait for Nikolai to come back.”

He felt a little bad when he saw Yuuri’s nervousness. His eyes flickered from the door of the room to Victor and he worried his bottom lip. He gripped the flowers in his hold, “Maybe I should wait for Nikolai-san too,” He murmured. His gaze fixed on the flowers he had brought Yuri. The florist had told him they signified health, hope, and other positive things.

Yuuri only mixed his Japanese honorifics with his English when he was nervous or anxious. So Victor knew he was having second thoughts about meeting Yuri.

“Don’t worry about it Yuuri,” He said, giving him his usual easygoing smile to try to put him at ease, “Maybe him not remembering is just a side effect of being in a coma for eighteen days. You should see him now, maybe it’ll jog some memories.”

Yuuri gave him an unconvinced look but he nodded slowly nonetheless. He squared his shoulders and opened the door and left it partially open behind him. He heard him trying to talk to Yuri and—

“Katsudon?” Yuri asked, his voice distant and rough from disuse. Victor made a sound of incredulity, his eyes widening at the fact that Yuri remembered Yuuri and not him. Suddenly he wanted to march in there and see what was happening with his own eyes.

 _That’s so unfair, kitten,_ he thought, with his heart in his throat, as he tried to listen in on what else they were saying. He couldn’t hear much but incomprehensible murmurs and he was just about to pull the door open when Yuri’s voice came again, “I really look up to you.”

The open declaration made Victor’s entire body freeze. Yuri had never openly stated his admiration for anyone but his grandfather. He hadn’t even admitted to the admiration he had for _him_ and he would usually get annoyed with Mila when she teased him about it.

 _Are you crazy, old hag? Why would I admire a useless old man like Victor?_ He had asked her. His face set into a frown and when Victor had raised an eyebrow at his vehement answer he’d given him a sneer. Something unpleasant seemed to settle heady in Victor’s chest. What was so special about Yuuri that his kitten remembered him?

The inexplicable urge to go in there and demand to know why it was Yuri remembered the piggy but not him, Yuri was supposed to love _him_. He wanted to pull Yuuri away, put distance between them, he wanted—

“Victor,” Nikolai’s voice says, snapping him out of his dark thoughts, “Where’s the Katsuki boy?” He asked and Victor noticed he looked weary as if he was about to faint at any moment.

He took him by the arm, trying to support him as he led him to take a seat on a nearby bench. The older man gave him a small grateful smile but it quickly turned down and Victor became worried. He didn’t know if he wanted to ask what the doctor had said or not.

“What happened? What did he say?” He finally asked.

Nikolai’s face was melancholic and he took in a breath, his eyes finding Victor’s own.

“He said we can make the arrangements to transfer Yuri home in a week.” He began, and his shoulders dropped. Victor looked at him in confusion, wasn’t that good news? Why did he seem like it wasn't? “He also said that he’s suffering from amnesia. And there’s a high probability that it’s permanent.”

Nikolai felt himself tense again, there was something awful about knowing that Yuri had lost many precious memories and that he might never recover them. It was awful knowing that all there might’ve been precious friendships and relationships that he didn’t remember and would probably lose because of this. He had seen Victor’s face when Yuri hadn’t remembered who he was, the pain that had flashed across his features as if someone had struck him in the face. And Yuri had been anxious and desperate when he realized that he was someone that he should remember but didn't. He knew how impatient Yuri could be, how annoyed he could get with himself when he didn't immediately get something right the on the first try, and now, with his memory partially gone, what would he do?

And there was another thing too.

“And also the fracture in his left leg...” Nikolai trailed off, his voice unsteady, and the old man cleared his throat, “There’s a chance that he might not be able to skate again.” And that was just salt on the already bleeding wound. Yuri loved skating, it was like an extension of him, a way to say what he couldn’t, a way to communicate with the world. Nikolai still remembered the first time Yuri had competed, he had been so adamant to chose his own music and with a sting in his heart, Nikolai had said nothing when Yuri chose one of Yelena’s old songs. He had seen him practice until late and when the day came, he watched him blink away frustrated tears when his mother called and said she wasn’t going to be able to make it. Every emotion, every hurt, his desperation, his sadness, his fear, his affection, his hopes, and his love...he expressed them all through skating. The ice was Yuri’s safe heaven, the one place he could always return to and yet, now...

“But it’s not definitive right?” Victor’s asked, also understanding what skating meant to Yuri.

“No, but...” The chances of him going back to the ice were extremely low. Nikolai didn’t want to give Yuri false hope, he was tired of seeing the hope die in his grandson’s eyes. He wasn’t even ready to face just how much Yuri had forgotten, he didn’t want to add this to the list.

“It doesn't matter!” Victor exclaimed, a little hysterically optimistic. Yuri had woken up despite the prognostic, he had survived when everything pointed otherwise, he had shown time and time again that he wasn’t one to give up without a fight, “He’ll recover, his retirement isn’t set in stone.”

Nikolai looked a Victor a little taken aback at his forcefulness but also glad that someone was trying to keep his hope alive.

“You might be right,” He told him and gave him a tired smile. He had been thinking the worst too soon. He stood up, suddenly wanting to see his grandson, “Come, let’s go see him.”

Victor followed behind him slowly and a firm resolution settled in his chest. How could he leave Yuri at a time like this? When he needed him the most even if he didn't know it? No, he couldn’t leave him. _Wouldn't_ leave him. It didn’t matter that Yuri never remembered him again or if he fell in love with someone else in the future. It didn’t matter. Victor would take care of him this time.

“I really did that?” He hears Yuri’s voice say as they walk into the room and Victor's eyes immediately flicker up to find him. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks and he has an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Yes!” Yuuri answers, neither of them have quite realized that they’re not alone anymore. And Victor sees how Yuuri's face is softened in fondness as he looks at Yuri.

“We’re back,” He announces, just as Yuuri was reaching to brush away a lock of Yuri’s hair away.

“Oh!” The Japanese man exclaimed, embarrassment clouding his features and it set off an alarm in Victor’s head.

But it's the way Yuri is still looking at the dark-haired man with a shy smile that _really_ makes his stomach churn. Everything he had been thinking had flown out the window right then. He didn't want to lose him, not so quickly and not so suddenly. Not when he—

"So you're Victor Nikiforov?" Yuri asks, snapping Victor out of his thoughts and when their eyes meet, as Yuri looks at him suspiciously and without any recognition, Victor realizes with a heavy heart that maybe he had already lost him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lololol, soooo it's been more than a week, I know. i know. But these past few weeks things got a little hectic. one of my family members had surgery to get a tumor removed so writing has been the last thing on my mind. and also, idk, I think the way the real world has been lately has been really draining. idk if anyone else feels that way or if maybe it's just me...lololol anyway this is getting way to long already.
> 
> but anyway, leave kudos/comments if you liked it! the author is always grateful. 
> 
> p.s. i hope the next chapter comes in a more timely manner, fingers crossed. lolol.  
> (my birthday is coming up in a few weeks so I'm taking some much needed time off work so maybe I'll be able to work on this and my other works at that time.)
> 
> until next time!  
> stay safe!


	4. Bulletproof Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got no excuses for my tardiness.
> 
> ps. i had to tweak some things from the original to have it translate well btw, just a heads up if you've read the Spanish version and notice the changes lol. It's not something huge, but I still wanted to let you guys know.

* * *

**Memory Lane**

_by: Miss. Breakable Butterfly_

**_Bulletproof Heart_ **

* * *

Even as the cold air filled his lungs, Yuri couldn’t help but smile at the little freedom. 

The last week that he had spent in Barcelona he had been bored out of his mind, wishing for nothing more than to be home. It had been _so_ frustrating not being able to do anything, especially since he’d always been used to being constantly active. Forced bed rest was the worst type of punishment. His grandfather and Yuuri Katsuki had been unbearable too, constantly babying him with their concern and attention. They would ask if he needed anything almost every ten minutes, try to get him to eat when he wasn't hungry, and bring him things they _though_ t he needed or wanted. They would also constantly talk about things Yuri didn’t remember, hoping something would jog his memory, but it only made him annoyed. Every time when Yuri said he didn’t remember anything they were talking about they would always get this sad look on their faces that made him feel…incomplete.

Some of the skaters that claimed to know him also came to pay him a visit during one of those days. But the visit had been short and awkward because there were way too many holes in Yuri’s memories and Yuri didn't know them.  And then there was the thing with Victor. 

He didn’t remember _anything_ about him and yet Victor's presence made him feel all sort of strange things. Emotions he didn’t know what to do with or how to manage, they made him self conscious of the state he was in, the bruises, the broken leg, the fact that he looked like shit and couldn't do anything about it. The older man would also give him these soft smiles that made Yuri's cheeks redden in embarrassment for no reason at all, he would notice _everything_ about him, his voice, his hands, his words, the way his hair fell over his eyes. It made him feel like he was a school kid with a crush on his teacher. He _hated_ every moment of it.

So now, he was only all too glad to be back home even if he still wasn’t able to rid himself completely of all the hospitals and doctor's visits since his recovery was far from being over. He wasn’t free of his grandfather’s coddling either but at least he was free of Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov if nothing else. They had left for Japan around the same time he had been released from the hospital, but unfortunately for him, they would return to Russia in two weeks' time. Yuuri had been constantly texting him keeping him updated in all that they did and gave well wishes from his family and friends, people Yuri had met at one point but now were nothing but strangers. 

“Yura…” A quiet voice comes, “It’s not good for you to be in the open like this.”

Yuri can’t help the frown that pulls at his brows, grabbing the handle of the wheelchair he’s bound to until his knuckles turn white. He turns and finds his mother’s eyes on him.

“I just needed some fresh air Lena,” He responds, his voice coming out colder than he intended.

Yelena Plisetsky only looks at her son dejectedly, he still called her _Lena_ even with all the missing memories. She couldn’t help feeling awful, Yuri remembered the majority of his significant memories of her—the ugly ones, the ones she regretted—and the wall he had created before the accident was still in place, they seemed to have been reinforced, actually. Yelena couldn't even remember the last time he had called her mother. It’s not as though she held it against him, because she knew better than anyone that she had left him when he needed her the most. He had been hospitalized in Barcelona and she had not dared to go. She couldn’t, she hadn’t wanted to see him dying or be faced with the possibility of him never waking up. And though she knew eventually she would regret it if he hadn’t made it, she had been completely paralyzed. 

She loved him, she did, b ut in moments like these, when Yuri still rejected her even with all his missing memories, made her realize that she deserved it even if she was here now. She had been a horrible mother to him and Yuri still instinctively knew to shield himself from her. She wished she could go back to those times when he would run-up to her, smiling brightly, calling her mama, his hands raised and his eyes shining, waiting for her to pick him up. He had trusted her back then, trusted her implicitly, and wholeheartedly that she would be there and she would take care of him. 

And she had failed him.

“I understand that, but you need to cover yourself…” She started to say as she reached to adjust the badly placed scarf on his neck but Yuri flinched back and her hands froze midair before they fell away, “…properly.” She finished lamely, stepping back, and avoiding his eyes. 

The gray clouds had moved in, Yelena noted, it would probably snow soon.

She wouldn’t shed tears for something she’d caused but…

Her eyes fell on her son again, his bruises had started to fade, and the cuts that marred his skin had healed and the only one that would probably scar was the one on his chin. Yuri was still young, so she could only hope that scar faded eventually too. She knew Yuri had a will of steel, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would make a full recovery, but she wanted to be there every step of the way. She wanted to regain what she had lost, but she was still afraid that maybe it was too late and that Yuri didn’t want her around anymore.

“Yelena…we have to leave.” A masculine voice interrupts and Yuri’s frown only deepens when he hears the voice of her husband. Valya was a good man, with a big heart and with his feet firmly planted on the ground. He had been the complete opposite of all the men she’d dated in the past and he was ten years older than her, widowed, and father of a ten-year-old little girl. Yelena had adored her from the beginning and it had caused massive tension between her and Yuri.

Yuri sighed, his face set in annoyance and barely disguised disappointment, “You should go. Alisa gets anxious when you leave her for too long.” His eyes were fixed on the view of the city and Yelena bit the inside of her cheek so hard it almost bled. Her son, her little Yurotchka always surrendered first when it came to her.

“ _Do you want to know why Yuri skates?” Nikolai asked, his voice hard and his gaze angry. She had refused to look at him in the eyes, “It’s because of you. Always for you. He wants your attention and you…what do you do? You worry more about a world you're no longer part of and you don’t even have the decency to attend_ one _of his competitions.”_

“Yelena?” Her husband snaps her out of the memory and she looks at him. Her eyes are wet with tears she refused to let spill, filled with hopelessness and desperation. She’s looking to him for help, to give her the encouragement she needs to figure this out. He looks at her for only a few seconds before he gives her a small reassuring smile and a nod and she finds her answer.

“I’ll stay here today," She says, and clears her throat, "To take care of Yura.” She appears more confident than she feels, but she’s determined to see this through. More than ever, she's determined, she hadn't felt so determined in a long time and her husband nodded in understanding.

“I’ll come by tomorrow, I’ll bring both of you something to eat,” He tells her, and then to his wife’s estranged son he says, “Alisa has been asking about you. I'll bring her by one of these days.” 

"Mmm," Yuri hums, looking unbothered. Valentin feels a little sad about the situation. The history between Yuri and his mother was long and extensive. He knew that they weren’t on good terms and that it wasn’t his place to come between them but he  hoped that this tragedy brought them just a little closer together. He wanted them to somehow rebuild what had been broken and make something new. He gives them one final goodbye and walks away.

After her husband leaves, Yelena comes to stand beside her son. 

Things would get better, she’d make sure of it. 

“It’s snowing,” She murmurs and she readjusts the hat on Yuri’s head and then his scarf. He doesn’t move away and she counts it as a small victory.

She’ll do things right this time.

* * *

_The afternoon was warm, one of those afternoons in which all you want to do is sit down and enjoy it fully. Yuri didn’t notice it._

_“This is Valya,” His mother was smiling and her eyes were bright, beside her the man, who seemed to be in his forties, smiled kindly, “And this sweetheart is Alisa.” She continued, motioning to the small girl that had his mother’s hand in a tight grip._

_Yuri hadn’t seen her in over a year and when she returns, she comes in the company of this man and his daughter._

_“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” His grandfather answers, but his shoulders are tense and his words measured, “To what do we owe this visit?” He looked to his daughter, waiting for an answer._

_Yuri could only stand to the side and witness everything with a growing feeling of dread._

_“Yelena and I are getting married,” Valya said, his voice steady and filled with fondness as he looked down at Yelena. It made Yuri’s stomach churn. His grandfather frowned and set his jaw. She hadn’t called, hadn’t even given an indication she was planning on getting married, she always managed to irritate him._

_“Oh,” Nikolai began, “Maybe it’s best we talked in private.” He said, his gaze falling heavily on his daughter with clear displeasure and anger. Yelena seemed to curl into herself and avoided her father's eyes._

_“Yuri,” His grandfather tells him, “Take Alisa for a walk.”_

_Yuri made a face, he wasn’t a child, he didn’t need to be sheltered, but his grandfather left no room for arguments and he didn’t want to particularly be here either._

_“Let’s go, Alisa,” He said, extending his hand and the girl looked at him hesitantly for a few seconds before taking his hand. They left the house, quickly leaving the tense atmosphere behind them and making their way to the closest park. While they roamed for a few minutes Yuri saw an ice cream stand and bought each of them a treat._

_“Mama said you were very pretty,” The girl says, suddenly and Yuri feels that awful feeling in his stomach again._

_“W-what?” He asks, close to choking on his ice cream and the girl only blushes._

_“I mean—Yelena.” She didn’t meet his eyes and her gazed fixed on the ice cream cone Yuri had accidentally crushed in his hand. It was cold and the ice cream was beginning to melt, dripping down his hand but Yuri didn’t care._

_“She lets you call her that?” He can’t stop himself from asking._

_Alisa finally looks up at him and Yuri feels bad for putting her on the spot. He looks away first._

_“I—“ She begins._

_“Sorry, it doesn’t matter.” He interrupts her. He didn’t want to hear the answer. He stood up to throw the melting ice cream cone in the nearby trash can, he wipes his hand on his pants and tells her, “Come on, we should head back. We’ve given them enough time.”_

_Alisa looked at her unfinished ice cream cone sadly, looking as though she had disappointed her father._

_“I always wanted a brother,” She says, her voice almost a whisper and trembling, it makes Yuri feel awful, “Bu-but when my mother died—I thought—it would only be me and dad so I’m happy that ma—Yelena—is going to be a part of our family now too.”_

_Yuri didn’t know what to say to that, but the word family rang in his had like an insistent, loud bell. He sighed, there was no reason to make Alisa more upset, he grabbed her hand and began leading her back to the house. Yelena seemed to have finally found in these people what she was looking for when she left him. That was fine. When they arrived back to the house, Yelena seemed much more relaxed and Valentin seemed right at home._

_“They’re going to stay with us for a while,” His grandfather tells him, his face resigned, “While they find a place to stay nearby.”_

_Yuri nods as he sees his mother giggle at something her future husband had said. He felt a sharp sting somewhere deep inside him but he brushed it off._

_But as the days passed and he witnessed the change in his mother and the way she treated the family she had formed without him he realized he could not ignore the sensation of emptiness inside him._

_The final strike comes when he’s walking by the living room and he hears Alisa say, “Like this_ deduska…” _It makes him freeze in his tracks and it makes him realize something._ _It was_ awful _being in this house_ _and seeing the perfect family his mother seemed to have found._

_They didn’t need him here. As he watched his grandfather look at Alisa in that soft fondness he had always believed to be only reserved for him he made a decision._

_It was all so clear now._

_He needed to leave._

* * *

Yuuri looked at the stuffed tiger bear through the glass and sighed. He still wasn’t sure if it was something Yuri would like. Since waking up, he was different, more open with his emotions, and easier to talk to. It was as if the filter he usually had on had been removed because of his forgotten memories. That’s were his dilemma was, what if he liked dogs more right now? Or raccoons? Or something weird...like sloths?

He shook his head, deciding that maybe he shouldn’t buy anything for him at all.

“I think Yurio will like it,” Victor says beside him as he observes the stuffed animal Yuuri had been gazing at.

“You think so?” He asks, still unsure, continuing to look at the toy with a critical eye. The stuffed tiger bear had green eyes and they reminded him of Yuri's of brilliant ones. He fumbled with his hands, nervous about buying it. He turns to Victor as he speaks.

“Yurio likes all things feline,” The older man says looking down at him, a small smile overtaking his lips. Yuuri feels his stomach give a lurch, ever since the proposal joke he still felt strange in the presence of the older skater. He turns his attention back to the glass and nods to himself as he makes his way to talk to Miss Mei about buying it. 

As Yuuri busies himself talking to the vendor, Victor looks around the store. Maybe he should look for something to buy Yuri too. Something nice, something that will make Yuri think of him, something that might remind him that he—

He sighs, his face unconsciously contorting into a grimace. 

If it had been difficult to get Yuri to open up in the past, now that he didn’t remember him it would probably be next to impossible. He doubted Yuri would give a second thought to a present from a stranger.  Still, he looked around the store and his eyes eventually fell on a snow globe. He quirks his eyebrow and picks it up, he turns it upside down to wind the lever to make the music box play. As the music plays, Beethoven’s seventeenth sonata for piano in D minor, he watches the fairy inside the globe spin as the snow falls around her.

* * *

_“Come on…” Yuri says, tugging at his hand, his green eyes shining under the plethora of lights that illuminate the open rink._

_“But Yura…” He says, looking around concerned. They’re in New York City and the fear that one of his fans or his kitten’s—who were decidedly more obsessive—would notice them is very real. He feels it like a weight on his chest._

_“Don’t be bo-ring!” Yuri teases, laughing at him. His cheeks are pink from the cold and his blond hair is hidden under his hat. If Victor was still a hopeless romantic teenager he would say that looking at him now, so free and so relaxed, so confident and bright, with his eyes reflecting the light, was like looking at his one true love, the butterflies in his stomach included._

_Yuri sticks out his tongue at him when Victor still doesn’t move to go with him and skates ahead joining all the people already there, blending into the crowd. Victor hesitates for less than a split second before following him, he doesn’t care for anyone there and when his focus lands on Yuri everything else fades into the background. It’s like in the movies when the two main characters focus on each other and nothing else matters._

_Yuri is skating slowly and when he notices Victor he smiles victoriously and holds out his hand. And as Yuri’s warm hand envelops his, he realizes—ah, everything makes sense now—he was irrevocably, irredeemably in—_

* * *

“Victor?” Yuuri questions, snapping him out of his recollection. Victor barely manages to keep from jumping in fright. Yuuri’s looking at him curiously, he holds a bag in his hand and the stuffed toy from earlier peaks out from the top. The Japanese man’s eyes trail down to the snow globe Victor is holding in his hand and he smiles, “Oh! That’s pretty!”

He moves to grab it to see it more closely but before he can, Victor turns sharply and he misses it completely, Yuuri blinks, confused at the sudden action.

“I’m going to go pay for it,” Victor says, smiling and shielding the snow globe away from Yuuri’s eyes and without waiting for another word, he walks to register.

Yuuri stands there for a moment, completely bewildered. Victor had been acting strange since Yuri’s accident. At first, he had been quite upset and worried about the accident since Yuri and he were close teammates. Yuri had followed him to _Japan_ , after all. Yuuri remembers that back when he only observed them from afar, Yuri and Victor always seemed to be close together in competitions. Because of that, it hadn’t been strange that Victor had been greatly affected because of what had happened to Yuri. But as the days passed, there were moments where Yuuri felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle. As if there was something more, something his coach didn’t let him see and he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Let’s go, Yuuri,” Victor says when he comes back, in his hand a much smaller bag than Yuuri’s. “Or are you buying something else?” Though Victor seemed to ask, he didn't look too concerned, and he had a strange pensive, faraway look on his face. 

“Just the tea leaves my mother asked me for.” Yuuri answered, trying to subtly decipher why Victor looked like that, “Is something wrong?”

Victor blinks and raised an eyebrow. 

Yuuri felt himself flush but managed to say, “Did Miss Mei say something to you? You look a little...confused?”

Victor smiles and teasingly says, “Is that why you’re looking at me so intently?”

The Japanese man gapes, and shakes his head, trying to get the heat on his face to diminish. 

“So…” He says, clearly amused at having caught Yuuri off guard, “…what type of tea leaves are you buying?”

“ _Kukicha._ ” Yuuri manages to say, clearing his throat, “It’s a type of green tea leaf.”

“Oh,” Victor acknowledges, nodding his head. Yuuri begins leading them out of the store and Victor is all too glad that the man didn’t continue asking any more questions. 

He wasn’t one to believe in superstitious things but Miss Mei had told him an interesting story about the snow globe he had bought. She said the song that the music box played sounded different to everyone that heard it and only those that were destined lovers heard the same song. It was all a very nice thought, but he doubted that was how these things worked. Still, like a child he didn’t want to show it to Yuuri, instead, he thought about Yuri and wondered idly if he would hear the same melody Victor had.

* * *

_He’d drank too much, there was a strong pulsing in his head and he felt like laughing about things that didn’t make any sense._

_“You’re worse than a child,” Yuri complains, his face set in annoyance._

_“Don’t be so bitter kitteeeen,” He answered smiling._

_Yuri sighed, readjusting the hold he had on Victor. The party was supposed to be in honor of his almost fifteenth birthday, there was only a week and a half left and Chris had found out. He’d been visiting and when he realized that he wouldn’t be here for the day he’d prepared a “small” celebration. It hadn’t taken long for everything to completely get out of control when the alcohol was introduced._

_“I couldn’t leave without giving you a present, kitten,” The Swiss man had said giving him a wink and Yuri had tried to protest but soon realized that trying to change Chris and Victor’s mind would only give him a headache._

_“Dumbass.” Yuri hisses between his teeth. He didn’t know if he was telling himself that or if it was aimed at Victor for being a stupid drunk. He struggled with the keys in his hands as he tried to open Victor’s apartment. When he finally managed to get the door open he couldn't help but let out a victorious smile._

_“You’re so cute,” Victor says, looking down at him. Yuri was glad that his face was already flushed from dragging Victor from the rink, if not he was sure it would have lit up red._

_“Ugh, you stink,” He spits back, pushing him inside and letting him flop on his couch. He tried masking his embarrassment at Victor calling him cute._

_Victor pouted as he sat up on the couch._

_“Where’s Makkachin?” He asked when he managed to make himself comfortable. His eyes swept the living room when he realized that his pet hadn’t come up to greet them._

_“He probably left you for a better owner.”_

_“No!” He whined, “Makkachin!”_

_Yuri could barely hold back a laugh. He rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation, “You really are worse than a kid.” But his words of reproach were a complete difference from the way he was looking at Victor. He couldn’t mask his fondness and his obvious happiness and it made Victor’s heart give a jolt. He’d tried to keep himself away and do the morally acceptable thing but it had all changed when he’d kissed him for the first time a little while back. Yuri took a seat next to him and Victor pulled him closer._

_“Happy birthday, Kitten,” He whispered and he cupped the blond’s face in his hands and finally did what he’d been wanting to do all night, kiss him._

_It started almost timidly, only a graze, but Yuri wound his arms around his neck and pressed his lips more insistently against his own. The kiss deepened and Yuri let out a little moan when Victor ran his tongue along his bottom lip. Just feeling Yuri's lips, tasting his sweetness, was like a spark that lit something inside him. Victor instinctively knew, whatever Yuri made him feel, was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He had kissed many people in his life, but none made him feel as alive as a simple kiss from this child did. He had never wanted to drown in another person like this before, had never wanted to risk everything just to feel the warmth they emitted, not like this, not like Yuri._

_“I—“ Yuri blinks, pulling away, a little disoriented, his eyes are dark in want, “…we can’t…you’re…drunk.” He murmurs so quietly Victor almost doesn’t hear him._

_The older smiles, barely containing the laugh that wants to escape him._

_“What’s so funny?” Yuri asks._

_“You’re sweet,” Victor answers, delighted at the way Yuri’s cheeks seem to flush even more, “But I didn’t drink that much.” He winks and Yuri looks at him incredulously. It was true, though. He had only drunk a few glasses of wine, not enough to even get him tipsy. But he’d been pretending all evening, just so he had an excuse to pull Yuri away after a few hours. No one would raise any eyebrows if they left together because of that since more than once Yuri had been the one to lead Victor back to his room after the banquets and drinking parties were over. Being the youngest, it always fell on Yuri to take Victor back and make sure he didn’t drown himself in the bathtub. So earlier he had acted as if he could barely keep himself on his feet to steal Yuri away from everyone else._

_Yuri rolls his eyes, letting out an angry huff, and doesn’t protest when Victor pulls him onto his lap. A squeak escapes him though when he feels Victor’s hand slide under his shirt, running his hands over the planes of his stomach. Yuri's breath shuddered and he leans up to meet Victor’s lips again. Their exchange of words seems to have done nothing to diminish the heat that was burning at his core, instead, it only seemed to ignite further when Victor cupped the back of his neck and pulled him even closer. What Yuri lacked in experience, he made up with his enthusiasm and passion of his youth. He didn’t back down from Victor’s challenge but he tensed when Victor slid his other hand up to tease one of his nipples._

_“N-not—no,” He shook his head, breaking their kiss. His body felt like it was burning and he knew he wasn’t going to last. He could already feel himself harden._

_“No?” Victor asks innocently but his voice is rough and he could not disguise the desire he felt. He looked down at the young boy on his lap, his lips were bruised red, his eyes unfocused, his cheeks flushed red, and his breathing agitated, it made him almost proud, “No what?” He asked as he rolled the nub between his fingers._

_Yuri let out an interesting noise from the back of his throat, pressing himself closer unconsciously, and moving his hips. He could feel Victor under him and when he felt his hardness against his own he could not stop the moan that left his mouth. Victor made quick work of Yuri’s shirt, sliding up his chest and over his head until Yuri’s upper body was bare for him. He wanted to devour him until there was nothing left of either of them. He lowered his head taking the cute pink nub into his mouth. He ran his tongue over it, teasing it slowly and lightly biting down on it until it was red and hard. As he moved to work on the other one, Yuri wrapped his arms around him, digging one hand into his hair as he let out the soft noises of pleasure._

_His cock hardened fully when Yuri began to slowly roll his hips against his own. He kissed Yuri’s chest, licked his neck, savored the taste of his skin, and ran his hands down his back until his hands found his taut little ass._

_Yuri felt almost dizzy from the heat, he held onto Victor tightly, using his strong shoulders as leverage. He’d never had experience with other men, but he had masturbated enough to know what felt good, and just the thought of having Victor’s large cock in his hands made him hot and impatient. He moaned again when he rolled his hips slowly enough to feel the entire length of the older man. His own erection was starting to feel painful in his pants. He wanted…no…he_ needed _Victor to take care of him. He wanted to feel his hands all over his body, wanted to feel him everywhere, outside and inside of him. Everywhere. Everywhere._

_“Vic-Victor,” He whined, nearly begging, “I need—I—“ He wanted to be closer, wanted to get rid of the obstacles in their way. Victor had been kissing his chest, sucking on his overly sensitive nipples, and aided Yuri with his hands as he rolled his hips, pressing their hips together._

_Victor let out a groan, pulling away from Yuri’s nipples only to kiss his mouth. He also wanted to feel Yuri’s skin against his own so with only one hand he manages to undo Yuri’s pants and his. He pulled out his hardened erection and when his hands found Yuri’s, the younger let out a keen at finally being touched. Victor didn’t feel much patience to be decent about this so he spits into his hand and grabbed both their cocks between them, moving his hand up and down as Yuri thrusts up._

_Yuri moaned loudly, arching his back and spreading his thighs more to get even closer. At that moment he felt nothing but pleasure and happiness at being so intimately touched by Victor._

_“I think—I think I—“ He started to say only to stop and bite down on his lower lip as he let out a whimper. “I’m—“ He tried again, but couldn’t finish at Victor tightened his hold on them and moved his hand faster._

_He dug his nails into Victor’s shoulders, throwing his head back, and moaning Victor’s name. Victor, seeing that Yuri’s neck was completely exposed to him, couldn’t help press kissed there, trying desperately to stop himself from leaving behind marks. He moved with Yuri, thrusting up at the same time, and gripped their cocks together. When he felt himself about to come he pulled Yuri’s face down, capturing his lips in a heated, sloppy, and wet kiss._

_Yuri came apart with a silent scream and Victor followed soon after and for long moments the only thing that could be heard was their labored breathing. Yuri fell boneless against him, his body shuddering at the overstimulation. His head lolled, and Victor held it up, cradling it against him. The boy looked up at him drowsily, his gaze hazy and unfocused, and before his eyes closed in exhaustion he barely managed to say, “I think I’m in love with you.”_

_As Yuri’s breath evened and he fell into unconsciousness, Victor could only look down at him a little petrified._

_“You’re so mean, kitten,” He said lowly and as his stomach filled with butterflies and his heart began to want to beat out his chest. He couldn’t help but feel like an inexperienced adolescent. “But I think I’m in love with you too.” He finally admitted out loud as he ran his hand over Yuri’s sweaty hair._

* * *

Despite it being cold, the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly, it was a perfect day to be out and about. Unfortunately for Yuri, who was still stuck in a wheelchair, he’d have to be satisfied being out on his grandfather’s small patio. At least the garden was nice to look at.

“Do you want more pirozhki?” Alisa asked softly as Yuri finished the one he was eating. She was still only ten but ever since learning about Yuri’s accident she had been adamant that she would also help Yelena take care of him. She had been so excited and proud when she had seen him win the Grand Prix. They had watched him compete on TV and she had been absolutely captivated by him from start to finish. All his movements had been beautiful and precise and his performance had made her feel total awe. Which is why it broke her heart looking at him now. He was in a wheelchair and she’d heard Nikolai tell Yelena in hushed tones that Yuri might never be able to skate again. 

“No, I’m full,” Yuri says, giving a grimace. He didn’t particularly like how dependent he had become on everyone. Alisa nodded in understanding and turned her eyes to the albums that were scattered on the table in front of them. Yuri had been going through the pictures for the last hour, trying to see if maybe they would trigger a memory or _something._

There’s one in particular that has caught his eye, it had probably been taken months before, he was at what seemed to be his birthday party. He was in the middle and even though his face was set into a pout, he could tell that he had been amused. What had caught his attention, however, what the man beside him. Victor had his arm around his shoulders, his cheek pressed to Yuri’s, and he was giving the camera a cheeky wink.

_“Happy birthday, kitten,” Victor’s voice is soft and low. Yuri can smell the alcohol in his breath but he didn’t push him away. The older man’s hand cradle his cheeks and he brings their faces close until their lips are meeting. It’s a gentle graze but Yuri can’t help the heat that pools in his stomach. He presses his lips closer and Victor deepens the kiss. Yuri lets out a moan, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer._

_He can feel Victor’s hands caressing his sides, as his tongue explores his mouth and guides him through the kiss. He loves the way Victor kisses him, it ignites a burning desire inside him._

“Yura?” Alisa asks, “Did you remember something?”

Yuri flinches at the sound of her voice. He feels his face burning and for aimless moments he doesn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure if what he had just…imagined…was true or not. He clears his throat, “No-no, I just—“ His voice is shaking and he frowns, “—I’m getting a headache.”

“Do you want me to get you the medicine?” She asks, not fully believing him. She busies herself by pouring out some juice and avoiding looking at Yuri. He seemed to be embarrassed and she knew he didn’t like it when people saw him like that. 

“No,” He says rubbing his forehead. His head was beginning to pulse but he hated taking the medicine, it always made him want to sleep. 

“Yurio!” He hears Yuuri’s excited voice exclaim and it makes a sharp pain shoot down one side of his head and he barely manages to keep from flinching. He almost regrets not taking Alisa up on her offer of getting him his medicine. He’s surprised at seeing the Japanese skater coming out of the door, he was not expecting him at all. 

“Yuuri—“ He starts only for his voice to crack when he sees Victor following close behind him. He can’t help the flush that immediately overtakes his face, just seeing him reminds him of the— _thing_ —his mind had cooked up that he didn’t think was real. He forces his embarrassed gaze away from him and focuses on Yuuri. He swallows thickly and forces the _thing_ from swamping his thoughts, he asks, “I thought you were getting here in two more days.”

“We finished everything already and decided to come early,” Victor answers, his blue eyes searching Yuri’s face, noticing the way the teen wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“And Victor wanted to talk to Yakov about the schedule also,” Yuuri added, his eyes falling on the small girl that was beside Yuri. He smiled kindly, “Hello, umm…”

“A-Alisa,” She answered, quietly. She had been observing them as they spoke and there was something familiar about the dark-haired man but she couldn’t quite remember where it was she had seen him before. She stood up from her seat, as it clicked in her head where it was that she knew him from, he was the one who’d won silver during Yuri’s debut at the Grand Prix. And the one who had made Victor leave her _brother_ behind. She announced, “I’m going inside.” 

She didn’t even bother to greet Victor.

Yuuri and Victor looked at her as they sat down on the table. She seemed to be quite displeased with them. 

“She’s Lena’s stepdaughter,” Yuri told them, trying to distract himself from noticing how close Victor was now. His heart had shot up to his throat and he could feel it beating wildly. 

“She didn’t even say hi to me,” Victor murmured under his breath. She hadn’t even looked at him when before she didn’t wait for him to sit down to bombard him with questions.

Yuri shrugged, still not meeting his eyes, and turned his attention to the large bag Yuuri had with him.

“What’s that?” He asked, as Yuuri squirmed in his seat looking embarrassed.

“It’s a present.” He slid the bag over, “For you.” Yuuri couldn’t help feeling a little expectant as Yuri accepted his gift. The younger boy didn’t waste time opening it and pulling out the large stuffed tiger bear.

“Oh, it’s—“ Yuri began and paused, and Yuuri tensed in nervousness, _did he not like it?_ But Yuri’s face lit up with a smile, “—It’s so _cute._ ” He squished to his chest, looking at Yuuri gratefully.

Victor, who was watching the exchange quietly, couldn’t help but feel dejected that Yuri was showing that unguarded smile to anyone but him.

“When I saw it, it reminded me of you,” Yuuri explained, half giddy and half sheepish,he liked the way Yuri was smiling, he didn’t quite know why it was but it was nice seeing him so comfortable.

“I also brought you something,” Victor cuts in, smiling to hide the childish annoyance he felt at watching them interact. 

Victor placed a small bag on the table. Yuri had been trying to avoid looking at him that he hadn’t noticed it before at all. But as Victor pulled his hand away, Yuri caught sight of the ring on his finger. Something heavy seemed to settle in his chest and his eyes widened when he remembered where he had seen that ring before. It was the same one Yuuri had.

“You’re married?” The question passed through his lips before he could stop it, and he felt his eyes watering, suddenly the feeling of wanting to cry seemed to grab a tight hold of him. _Why?_ He asked himself. Trying to understand why he felt like something was awfully and painfully wrong.

“ _No!_ ” Yuuri exclaims trying to quickly fix the misunderstanding. He didn’t want Yuri to get the wrong idea, not like all those weeks ago when Victor had made the joke. It didn’t feel right to lie to him.

“It’s just a good luck charm,” Victor cleared up, surprised at both their reactions. 

“Oh,” Yuri muttered, his gaze falling to the floor. He didn’t want them to see him, he knew that his eyes were probably bloodshot red from trying to keep himself from crying and he didn’t have an excuse to give them for his behavior. 

“I thought I had to congratulate you,” Yuri finally says, reaching for Victor’s gift with trembling hands, “The lack of memories makes me misunderstand things.”

He clears his throat just as his grandfather and Alisa came out to the patio holding food and drinks.

“How was your trip?” Nikolai questions to the newly arrived guests when the table was settled.

“It was…” Victor starts only to stop when Yuri began to place the stuffed toy back into the bag. 

Yuri felt everyone’s eyes on him and he tried to smile, “Sorry, my head really hurts,” He explained, he settled the bag on his lap and grabbed Victor’s gift, which he hadn’t opened, “Thanks for the gifts.”

He began rolling away from the table and Alisa quickly went to help him. As Yuuri and Victor watched him go back inside they felt guilty and frustrated.

Nikolai only watched his grandson with a contemplative look on his face. He turned his gaze down to the albums that were still on the table. “Maybe he remembered something,” He told them, as he picked up the photo books, “Sometimes…when he remembers something…he gets headaches.”

Yuuri and Victor nod in understanding but it didn’t alleviate the worry they felt. 

As Yuri disappeared somewhere into the house, Victor couldn’t help but feel a knot forming in his stomach. _Did Yura remember that everything was my fault?_ He wonders and then tried to dispel the thought. He refocuses on the conversation with Nikolai had begun with Yuuri. 

It would be different this time, Victor wouldn’t leave him. It didn’t matter if Yuri didn’t want to be with him anymore. He was done doubting and regretting. He would take care of him this time around, he’d learned that it was a greater tragedy to not have him in his life. Just look at what had happened when he had tried to keep his distance.

Yuuri kept shooting the door looks as he talked to Nikolai as if waiting for Yuri to come back. Victor steeled his resolve, he’d stay, it didn’t matter what he had to do, it _would_ be different this time. He was done running away from himself and from his emotions.

* * *

_As soon as Victor finished his performance, he could instantly hear the applause and cheers of the audience. The rink filled with flowers and stuffed animals that the crowd was throwing and yet he couldn’t feel anything. He could only remember the way his mother had looked on her hospital bed._

_“I’ll win,” He had told her, holding her hand tightly._

_His mother looked at him proudly and caressed his cheek, but exhaustion covered every faction of her features. “I know you will,” She’d said, her cheeks sunken in and her skin deathly pale. Though she’d never said it to Victor, he knew that the chemotherapy was taking a harsh toll on her body._

_“And then...” He said, swallowing thickly, trying and failing to hold back his tears, “You can brag about it to your friends.”_

_His mother had wiped away his tears, smiling sadly, as she murmured, “I will,” Her own voice barely stable. “I’ll tell everyone what an amazing figure skater you are.”_

_Victor had only nodded, not trusting his voice, and bit the inside of his cheek to try and contain the sobs that wanted to escape his chest. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that such a kind and loving woman like his mother was going through this._

_“It’s time for your next session,” One of the nurses said as she came into through the door. His mother looked to her and breathed in deeply. No one would ever say she didn’t try her best until the end, no matter how painful it was, or how tiring, she never stopped fighting._

_“Shine brightly my dear,” She said finally to Victor and he could only lean down to give her a kiss on the cheek, “Keep shining and don’t ever stop smiling for me okay?”_

_He nodded with a painful knot in his throat as he watched the nurses taking her away from the room. He wiped away the rebellious tears that had slipped through his eyes and squared his shoulders. He’d be the best skater anyone had ever seen, he’d do as she’d asked and dazzle everyone with his art. He’d never let anyone see his pain, it didn’t matter who it was, he’d keep a smile on his face and only reveal the truth to his mother, the only person who mattered._

_So he pasted on a carefree and easy smile on his face, looking as though he had no hardships in the world and didn’t think about anything else. His father had weaved a net of lies to keep him in the dark for a long time, but now that he was seeing what his mother was going through he realized why. His father loved her so much he had tried to keep everything together for as long as he could and it was tearing him apart, so Victor would play his part. His mother had always said she loved his smile so he’d keep smiling until she was better for both of them._

_Coming back to the present, he picked up one of the blue roses someone had thrown on the ice and put it on his hair, and as he stood on the podium, he smiled as the gold medal was placed around his neck. The story of the legend he would become was barely beginning._

_As soon as everything was over with, he left, and only stopped to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers from the florist on his way to the hospital._

_When he arrived, however, he found his father outside his mother’s room, tears running down his face._

_“What happened?” He asked, worried, and his heart falling out of his chest and his hands trembling._

_ His father shook his head, "Sorry," He said, his voice cracking, "I'm sorry Vitya, she's...you're mother...she's..." _

_ "No," He said, shaking his head, the bouquet slipping out of his grip, "No..." _

_ Coldness seemed to settle into him, harsh and painful. _

_ "Keep shining and don't stop smiling," That's what his mother had said. Somehow, he manages to hold himself together in that hospital. He takes a deep steadying breath and steps over the fallen flowers as he moves to comfort his father. There wasn't any time to stop and cry, no, he would be there to do the things his father wouldn't be able to. Not right now when he'd just lost his love.  _

_ He wouldn't let anyone see beyond what he let them, for everyone he would Victor Nikiforov, the legend of figure skating, he would be the greatest start the rink had ever seen. He would shield his heart and he would shine brightly no matter what.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!!  
> see you next time and stay safe!


	5. Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your patience and your continued support and kudos!

* * *

**Memory Lane**

_by: Miss. Breakable Butterfly_

**Night**

* * *

_He stared blankly at his reflection in the mirror. Would he ever fill this void? Would he ever stop feeling so lost? Would this pain ever stop?_

_He touched the strands of his silver hair and felt disgusted._ _When he had been younger, he had loved it, though he didn’t particularly like how much effort it took into taking care of it. All the masks and treatments he subjected it to so it would remain undamaged and beautiful. His hair was prone to knotting and tangling as well, so he had to keep it braided during the night and during practice. His hair was something that required a lot of time and effort from him and as he got older he began to lose patience for it._

_Cutting it would have been practical._

_He had tried once._

_He remembers having the scissors in his hand, deciding that his features had matured enough and that it wouldn’t have the same impact in his presentations as it once had. It was better to cut it, yet even as he held one of the strands between the scissors his hands trembled and he couldn’t find the strength to do it._

_“You’re so beautiful,” His mother’s voice had come, startling him and making him almost scream, but she’d only smiled, “You are going to be the prettiest girl on the rink today.”_

_“Mom!” He had whined mortified, as he pouted. He wondered how long she had been there, leaning against the bathroom door quietly observing him as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had been trying to braid his hair before leaving for practice but he had gotten frustrated because it wouldn’t sit the way he wanted it to. So in a moment of frustration, he had taken out the scissors instead of continuing to deal with it._

_His mother threw her head back and laughed at his expense and he felt himself flush in embarrassment._

_“Oh, you know I’m only joking,” She said, coming inside and taking the scissors from his hand, “You’ll be the most handsome man.” She motioned for him to kneel and he did._

_She set the scissors on the counter and began running her fingers through his hair and Victor let her. The truth was, that it_ would _be best if he cut it, he no longer possessed the androgynous features that characterized him early in his senior career. Now that he was eighteen his features were clearly those of a young man, his hair didn't help him anymore._

_But as his mother began to braid his hair and he had realized that he_ couldn’t _cut it. He loved having it long. Loved it because his mother loved it. She liked doing his hair in pretty braids and running her fingers through it. She liked helping him take care of it and Victor liked the quality time he spent with her because of it. In his increasingly busy life, it became a time where he could stop and just breathe for a moment, and she was there._

_She worked quietly on his hair for a few minutes before taking a blue ribbon and using it to tie the end of his braid._

_“There,” She murmured finally, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “All done.”_

_Being the teenager he was at the time Victor had only felt more embarrassment at her affection but he smiled nonetheless as he stood. He looked at himself in the mirror and felt satisfied, she always managed to easily do what he wasn’t able to._

_“You really need a daughter,” He told her, feigning exasperation._

_“Oh! But” She teased, “You’re already my beautiful princess, Vic-to-ri-a.” She pinched his cheek as he looked down at her with a frown._

_“That’s so mean,” He had told her._

_She had wrinkled her nose, making a noise in disagreement, and Victor could only roll her eyes at her antics. It always amused him how she could be so effortlessly comical and easy going. He knew she did it to ease him and his father when they were having a hard time and he admired that she did everything she could to keep her family always laughing. No matter how stressed Victor was, he could always count on her to make him feel better, to make him take a moment to get out of his head and look at the world from a different perspective. But—_

_“Don’t stop smiling for me okay?”_

_Victor blinks his eyes rapidly, forcefully pulling himself out of the past, trying to dispel his tears but he can’t stop them._

_His mother had loved his hair, his mother had loved to comb through it, run her fingers through his hair, and braid it._

_But his mother would never do it again._

_When the scissors come down on his first strand of hair, the sound almost seems to echo in his bathroom. His eyes are bloodshot red and he bites down on his lip until he’s sure he’ll draw blood but he doesn’t stop. He continues snipping away at his long locks, not caring that he’s not cutting straight and not caring what he’s going to look like afterward._

_His mother was...gone._

_He didn’t need this hair._

_But he didn’t know how long he would be capable of pretending that the void she'd left behind wasn't tearing him apart._

* * *

Victor’s frustration only seemed to be increasing.

It was something truly exasperating and unpleasant because it didn’t let him concentrate effectively on any of his practices. He wanted his next program to be spectacular, good enough to win another gold medal for Russia, and a way to somehow make his kitten remember _something_ about him. And yet, his frustration only made him lag behind in his choreography which in turn only cause _more_ difficulty. 

The sound of phone going off made him frown, even that was annoying.

“S-sorry,” Yuuri apologized, giving an embarrassed sheepish quirk of his lips, his face red because of practice, he rummaged through his belongings trying to find his phone. Victor only watched silently as Yuuri saw the notification and the screen and noticed how his eyes lit up, before he answered the call.

Victor felt his earlier irritation flare up again, this hadn’t been the first time Yuuri had received a call that distracted him from his training and what really made Victor peeved—and his stomach drop—was the sweet smile that Yuuri always had on while on the phone and for hours after. He had an idea of who it was he was talking to but his worthless pride wouldn’t let him ask for the confirmation directly. He didn’t want to hear how Yuuri’s friendship with Yuri was growing while Victor hadn’t even had a decent conversation with him since they had visited him at his grandfather’s house. Yuri only ever gave him polite smiles that one would give acquaintances, the type of smiles that you give strangers because you don’t want to be rude, and it seemed as though Victor was the only person who noticed it. Before he could stop himself an irritated _tskk_ left his lips.

“Looks like Yuuri has a girlfriend,” Mila said, coming up behind him.

It made Victor's hand clench on his side and he slipped on his usual smile, trying to hide how irritated that made him feel. She probably had no idea how that phrase put him on edge.

“You think?” He asks instead, looking up to seem as though he was wondering.

Mila only stuck her tongue out.

“At this rate, they’re going to eat your canary.” She said in fake condescending sadness. She winked and walked away when Yakov started shouting at her from the other side of the rink. 

“I’m going, I’m going! Jeez!” She said.

Victor watched her walk off in silence. Mila had gone through a very difficult time after coming back from Barcelona. She had barely found amusement in anything for weeks after, still feeling guilty about Yuri’s accident, and she had gone to visit him three weeks after coming home. The guilt had been eating her alive and it had weighted heavily on her shoulders despite Nikolai and everyone else telling her that it wasn’t her fault. And Victor—like the coward he was—did not say anything about his role in the entire events of that night. He’d tried to console her as best he could since she had been, after all, Yuri’s best friend. 

After Yuri and her talked, however, it seemed as though she’d come to terms with certain things, and though she still didn’t feel completely innocent, she seemed more normal these days. As if the weight she was carrying had been alleviated.

“Victor,” Yuuri says and Victor blinks before turning to him. Ah, there it was again, that look in Yuuri’s eye that made something in Victor feel like screaming.

“What is it?” He asks innocently coyly and he feels satisfaction at the way Yuuri’s cheeks pink and looked to the floor. 

But before Victor could ask anything else, Yuuri looked up, and said, “I want to cancel this afternoons practice.” His voice was low but firm.

“Why?” Victor asks, an hard edge to his voice that wasn’t there before and his voice dropping octaves. “You know that you still haven’t even started working on your long program and your short still needs _a lot_ of work.”

“I-I know.” Yuuri responds, with a knot in his throat. Of course, Yuuri knew that. He knew that there was a lot of work to be done and he didn’t want to make Victor feel like he was wasting his time. Especially since he had agreed to train him and be his rival at the same time. But he had made a promise. “I know but—I promised Yurio. He’s been having a hard time with his therapy and well—I promised I would meet with him.”

Victor clicks his mouth shut. Suddenly feeling his irritation quell and turn into shame. The words seem to just resound in his head. 

_I promised…_

_I promised…_

* * *

_To be honest, he didn’t know what possessed him to go to the juniors competition. He didn’t even know anyone there and he usually kept his distance from Yakov’s younger students, content with letting them admire him from far away. He liked to keep up an air of mystery around them, it made things more fun. So he didn’t quite know how he ended up there, letting his eyes roam the rink and taking in the tense atmosphere. Maybe he was feeling nostalgic, these had been his beginnings too, after all. He could still remember the feeling of nervousness that had taken over him, the way his stomach felt heavy, and the tinge of adrenaline mixed with fear at failing in the presence of the judges and the audience. He could also remember the way his parents had looked so proud and so sure that he would be victorious. He cleared his throat, trying to dispel the memories, even now, he still felt a sharp sting of pain every time he remembered his mother._

_The round of applause is what brought his focus back to the rink._

_“Our next competitor is Yuri Plisetsky,” He heard over the intercom, and Victor’s curiosity spiked. That name sounded familiar to him, he’d heard it over and over for the past couple of months. He was Yakov’s newest student and the old coach complained about the kid's insolence and prickly attitude any chance he got. He’d go on long tangents about how he didn’t listen, always doing exactly the opposite of what Yakov told him._

_“He’s like you,” He’d told Victor on one such occasion._

_From his place in the stands he watched as the kid took his position at the center of the rink and well…he’d been completely captivated by his performance, just like everyone else. There was something about the delicate grace the kid exuded that reminded Victor something otherworldly—of fairies, of angels. He couldn’t help leaning a little further in when he saw him gaining speed, ready to take off into the air, and as Yuri turned what Victor was more than sure was supposed to be a triple salchow into a quad he felt himself involuntarily grinning._

_After the boy’s program ended, Victor made his way to were Yakov was chastising him angrily and the boy looked thoroughly disinterested._

_“Don’t nag him too much,” Victor said, cutting Yakov’s tirade short and gaining both their attention. Yuri’s eyes widened in what Victor assumed was surprise and admiration, but his face shuttered off into a frown not even seconds afterward. “It was great!”_

_Yuri’s cheeks flushed but he did not let the frown on his face ease._

_“Of course you would think so,” Yakov complained, “You’re the same. You never listen.” Despite his words, however, there was some exasperated fondness in his voice._

_Victor didn’t answer, instead he turned his eyes to Yuri, who was looking at him with cautious scrutiny. Yuri wasn’t looking at him with the adoration and admiration that his competitors and fans looked at him with, no, Yuri looked at him like he was sizing up an enemy. Like a challenger. It made Victor quirk his brow and a small flare of competitiveness sparked inside him._

_“I bet that you can win the junior championships without the quads,” Victor said._

_Yuri looked up at him, his eyes unwavering, “If I do, will you choreograph the program for my senior debut?”_

_“Sure,” The older responded easily, “But only if you win gold.”_

_He could feel Yakov’s surprised gaze on him but he didn’t take his eyes of Yuri._

_Yuri looked at him suspiciously for a second before nodding, and then he asked, “Do you promise?”_

_“I promise.” Victor answered, extending his hand over the railing._

_“You better not break your promise, old man.” Yuri said as he grasped Victor’s hand._

_Victor pouted at being called old but let it go when he was Yuri’s lips turn up in amusement at Victor’s annoyance._

* * *

“Just for today,” Yuuri said and Victor suddenly found himself in the present again. His brown eyes were looking at him expectantly, “Tomorrow I’ll work twice as hard.” 

He looked a little anxious and Victor almost felt bad at his earlier harshness.

“I don’t want to break my promise,” Yuuri continued without waiting for Victor’s answer. 

A promise had been what brought Yuri and he together, long ago, it had been a promise that had made Yuri a constant presence in his life. After that day, Yuri’s practices had aligned with his own, even the ones that ran late into the night which often resulted in Yuri crashing at Yakov’s place and after a while, Victor’s. After that promise was made, Yuri was always present at Victor’s competitions at Yakov’s side, with his concentration firmly on Victor. And though Yuri tried to disguise it with frowns and a sharp tongue, Victor knew he was officially in Yuri’s good graces. It was in the way he smiled, in the way he shared with Victor some of the hot chocolate his grandfather had made for him on the cold days, it was in the way he rolled his eyes at Victor’s antics. 

That promise had brought them together. And Victor had broken it and it had led to this chasm that Victor wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to close.

Yuuri waited patiently for Victor’s answer, observing him the little frown on Victor’s face and Yuuri wondered what had caused the older man to seem put-off. However, in a blink, Victor’s expression changed back into his usual carefree smile and for a moment, Yuuri wondered if maybe he was imagining things.

“Alright, Yuuri,” He finally answered, the lightness in his tone not giving away the awful emotions swirling inside him. He’d never been good at sharing, he’d always known that, and when it involved Yuri the intense, primitive need to hide him away and keep him for himself only intensified the feeling. And he wasn’t good at loosing either.

Yuuri smiled gratefully and Victor couldn’t help the tinge of shame that clouded him. Yuuri was too kind, too selfless, he gave and gave without expecting anything in return. And maybe that’s what made him such a threat to him, it was almost sad, how Victor found himself ready to engage in a battle with a man that had no idea what was happening. But he refused to feel bad about it, he pushed down his shame because he couldn’t and wouldn’t give up. Yuri was his. And Victor was Yuri’s. It was clear to Victor that he could not live without him, the past months had only proved it and he refused to back down.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said as he began to tap away on his phone.

Victor forced himself to smile, “No worries,” Then he continued innocently, “I haven’t seen Yurio in such a long time, after all.” He felt a certain dark amusement at the way Yuuri froze and hastily looked up to find his eyes.

“Y-you’re coming with me?” He stuttered and Victor almost wanted to narrow his eyes in suspicion. 

“Sure,” He said, “I’d like to know how he’s been. Unless…” Victor trailed off pretending to be in deep thought and then he teased, “Unless it’s a date.”  And as the Japanese man gaped he didn’t relent, putting him on the spot, “ _Is_ it a date?”

“N- _no_.” He denied, moving his hands in the air, “It’s just a friendly meeting.”

Victor took in Yuuri’s skittish behavior, and asked the question that had been nagging at him for months now, “Do you like Yura?” 

Victor’s heartbeat loudly in his chest, suddenly afraid of hearing the answer. He really didn’t want to have Yuuri Katsuki as a rival for Yuri’s attention. Victor wasn’t usually kind to his competition.

His worries only seem to deepen when Yuuri looked at him like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. 

He babbled, “No—no. How?—I mean—He’s Yuri and-and he’s—“ The lack of a firm answer only made Victor’s anxiety about the subject rise.

“VICTOR!” Yakov shouted, effectively shutting Yuuri up and making Victor roll his eyes. “If you’re not practicing get out of my rink! Other people need to use it!”

Victor waved at him, trying to placate him, “Sorry, sorry, we’re going!” 

* * *

_It was a cold afternoon and he knew he should probably be gathering his things and packing up to go home before it night fell but, sitting on the bench, he couldn’t will himself to move. He just couldn’t get out of his mind how sickeningly sweet his mother was acting with Valya and the_ disgusting _way they faked being a perfect, happy family. He couldn’t deal with it anymore, it was draining having to pretend to not care when it was a constant ache in his heart. He hated the patient and caring way his mother treated Alisa too. She treated her kindly, with love, never annoyed or reproachful. A stark difference from the way she had treated him. He was so tired of being in that house and having it rubbed on his face that his mother was getting farther and farther away every day._

_“Kitten…” Victor’s soft voice snaps him out of his reverie and with horror he realizes that he was crying again. He wipes his tears as best as he can trying to pull his eyebrows into his usual annoyed frown._

_“What are you doing here old man? I thought you had left already,” He said, not turning to face him just yet. Not before he got himself under control. He didn’t want Victor to see him crying again like he had a few days ago in his apartment._

_“I wanted to talk to you about what you asked…” Victor said slowly, noticing how Yuri’s gaze was still firmly set against the wall. As Victor got closer the younger boy pretended to be looking over something in his bag and Victor set a hand on his shoulder when he noticed him taking a shuddering breath. When Yuri turned his eyes to him, they were glassy, a faint redness surrounding them and he looked as though he would start crying at any moment. “What’s wrong?”  
_

_There was a certain vulnerability in Yuri’s face that made Victor’s heartache. He looked so small and so lost._

_“N-nothing.” Yuri unusually stuttered, hating the way Victor was looking at him, but at the same time wishing he’d let himself fall into his arms and cry. “Stop looking at me like that,” He said, his voice verging on a plea. He didn’t want to cry about something that was hopeless. So what if his mother had married? So what if she had formed a family in which Yuri didn’t have a place? So what if he felt empty? It didn’t matter. He was more than used to being his mother’s last thought. He was just tired of that little part of himself that still waited, still cried, and still screamed like a child for his mother’s love._

_Victor looked at Yuri for long seconds and for a moment he thought that the blond really would start crying like the other day, but he frowned and turned away. Yuri seemed to find his balance and when he turned back to look at Victor his eyes were as sure and as confident as ever. His voice didn’t waver when he asked, “So are you going to help find an apartment or not?”_

_“Actually…” Victor begins, not pushing Yuri to tell him things he doesn’t want to, “That’s why I was waiting for you.” He looks at Yuri pointedly, “I found some you might like. Though I still think it’s not a good idea for you to live alone.”_

_Yuri just rolled his eyes at Victor’s concerns, “Look, you don’t have to worry. I can take care of myself. I’d even go as far as to say I’m better than you. Since you can’t cook for shit. I’m already a step above you,” He said, sneering in a condescending manner, “And do you know how annoying and expensive it is having to travel from Moscow to St. Petersburg and back every day of training? My grandfather thinks it’ll be a lot more convenient this way, too.”_

_For a moment Victor almost wanted to believe that this totality pragmatic reason was why Yuri wanted an apartment of his own, but he knew it wasn’t the entire truth or the main motivation._

_“But…then who’s going to take care of your grandfather?” Victor asks. Though Nikolai still possessed the vigor of a thirty-year-old man, his health had been steadily declining in the past year and more than that, Yuri loved him, he was the one person did_ everything _for. It wasn't a secret to anyone that Yuri constantly worried about the older man._

_“Lena and her husband have found a place nearby,” Yuri answered, feigning indifference, “They’re at the house all the time actually. They always come for dinner, I think he’ll be fine.”_

_The last of his words hold a bitter tinge that he cannot disguise and suddenly, Victor understood everything. Yuri was running away from the family his mother had formed, he was running away from witnessing his mother being happy. He had tried so hard to make her proud, always doing his best to be on his best behavior, doing his best in school, going above and beyond in his skating, and yet, it hadn’t been enough._

_“Besides, I already talked to him about it and he was on board,” Yuri murmured. What Yuri didn’t mention, however, was that he told his grandfather that he was moving into dorms provided by the federation for their athletes. He’d asked about them, honestly, but they didn’t have any available rooms at the moment and the waitlist was half-a-year-long and Yuri didn’t have that type of time to sit around waiting._

_Victor only nodded and despite not being totally convinced, he’d show Yuri the three apartments he’d looked at._

_On their way to the first apartment, Yuri didn’t speak much, instead he just looked out the window of Victor’s car watching St. Petersburg pass by but when they arrived at their destination Yuri made a displeased face._ _It was too far away from the rink, and though the area was nice, it was over his budget. He immediately disliked it. The second apartment was closer to the rink, but in the center of the city, which only made it more expensive, and it was on a busy, loud street. The restaurant's were busy and loud and Yuri instantly knew that this one wasn’t going to work out for him either. It was way too loud and he valued his silence the majority of the time._

_“So…” Victor began only to stop when he saw Yuri shaking his head. He looked at his watch and sighed, “Well, then, it’d be best to take you to the station now so you make it to Moscow at a reasonable hour. We can look at more apartments tomorrow.”_

_“Don’t worry about it,” Yuri said, “I told my grandfather that I’d stay at your house.” He looked at Victor for a beat and then said, “But you can just drop me off at a hotel and I’ll stay there.” It hadn’t been the first time he’d stayed at one when practice ran late, but more than that it was to avoid going home to see his mother. Besides, Victor must have something to do with Irina and he’d already taken up his entire afternoon._

_“Absolutely not,” Victor told him, a little scandalized, the last thing he planned on doing was leaving the kid alone. They got into the car and made their way back and when Victor turned on the street that led to his apartment and Yuri felt a wave of relief. He hated hotels but there were times where that was the only place he could escape to. But Victor drove past his building and Yuri felt a tinge of disappointment._

_“I thought…” He began and stopped when Victor turned and gave him a wink. His stomach did that weird thing again, where it felt like he was on a roller coaster and he quickly looked away when he felt his cheeks reddening._

_“There’s one last place I want to show you.” He told him._

_Yuri looked out the window, taking in the expensive zone where Victor lived and said, “I told you nothing pretentious.”_

_“I know,” He said as they arrived at a considerably smaller building and parked his car._

_From the outside, the red brick stood out against the white of the others, it only had six floors, and at a reasonable distance from the rink. Yuri looked at it still unsure, however, he wasn’t fully convinced from the first glance._

_He let himself be pulled into the building by Victor and as soon as he stepped into the foyer, Yuri decided that this place was definitely much better than the other two they had seen._

_ It was one of those old buildings that had been remodeled to be apartments. From the looks of the paintings on the wall and the architecture, it must've been some type of office building at one point. It had that classical look about it, the type that merged modern with the old style. The lady at the counter greeted them as soon as she saw them. _

_“Oh, you’re here to see the apartment correct?” The woman asked Victor, and her kind and light voice reminded Yuri of a sweet grandmother._

_Victor nods and the woman gestures for them to follow her to the elevator. When they reach the fourth floor, the door swings open and they step out into the hallway. She leads them to a door on the far right and unlocks it._

_“I’ll let you take a look around. I’ll be back soon,” She tells them and then leaves them be._

_Looking around the place, Yuri can easily see himself living here. The apartment is spacious, it's quiet, the bustle of the city a faint murmur, and the view from the large windows is absolutely breathtaking._

_Victor moves around the living room, looking at everything and watching Yuri’s reaction discreetly. There was a reason Victor had shown him the two previous apartments first. It was because he was sure that Yuri_ wasn’t _going to like them. And this was the apartment he wanted Yuri to get, VIctor's personal favorite. Victor knew that once Yuri had made his mind up about leaving his grandfather's house there was no one in the world that would dissuade him. So he’d made sure to find something Yuri would like near his own home that way he could keep an eye on him. His own apartment was only five minutes away and he’d gone to great lengths to negotiate a price that suited Yuri’s budget._

_“It has a balcony,” Yuri says, a little amazed and he pulls the door open. He steps out into it and Victor follows him. Night has fallen by then and Saint Petersburg has lit up, the lights reflect in the dark waters of the canal and it’s almost magical. Yuri turns to look up at him and he has on a small smile, “It’s perfect.”  
_

_“I’m glad you like it,” Victor responds, his heart beginning to thump rapidly in his chest. A cool wind blows, ruffling the gold strands of Yuri's hair, and a lock falls right between his eyes. Yuri wrinkles his nose, trying to blow it out of his face, but the strand falls right back, and Victor laughs. He steps close, reaching with his hand to place the stubborn strand behind Yuri's ear. As he runs his fingers through his hair, Yuri's looking up at him, unmoving and quiet, with a focused gaze almost...expectant. His eyes are bright and the apples of his cheeks rosy. Victor doesn't step away and for a long moment they just stare at each other and Yuri is still looking at him like he's waiting for something—something VIctor is done trying to deny himself—trying to deny Yuri._

_"Your eyes have blue pecks," He whispers, barely moving his lips, slowly running his fingers along the contour of Yuri's jaw. He can feel Yuri's warm breath against his neck and he tries to step away but Yuri's hands comes up to grab him by the lapels of his coat and his small hands stay bunched there, not pulling him closer or shoving him away. Involuntarily, Victor leans down just as Yuri stands on his tippy toes and closes his eyes._

_Yuri is a force he cannot escape._

_When Yuri's lips meet his, he feels as though he's finally come up for air. He knows it's wrong—he knows, fuck,_ he knows— _there's such a huge age gap between them and if he was a stronger man he would stop this but Yuri pulls him closer. And it doesn't matter. He cradles his small face in his hands and kisses him until Yuri is left without breath. They separate to take a breath and then Yuri is wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him in again, and letting out a moan of pleasure. Yuri's enthusiasm only seems to spur Victor on and he wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against his body, trying to get as close as humanly possible. VIctor has been in the dessert too long and Yuri's mouth is the only spring where his thirst can be satisfied._

_Victor pulls away, giving one last small suckle to Yuri's bottom lip, and the squeak that leaves Yuri's throat is more than satisfying enough. He's everything Victor wants and needs and he's looking up at Victor in the same way._

_Their world had changed irredeemably._

_The sound of a knock is what makes them spring apart._

_"So..." The lady from earlier says, "Have you liked it?"_

_VIctor knows the answer long before Yuri utters a word._

_"Yes," He says, clearing his throat, though he's looking a little dizzy and maybe he's not referring to the apartment at all. But it doesn't really matter because Victor feels an excitement strumming beneath his skin when Yuri looks at him with hazy eyes and prettily redden lips. He knows he's an irredeemable bastard but—_

_The lady begins giving them the details about the apartment and payment options as she begins walking back. Yuri moves to follow her, blinking and finally coming back to himself, but he pauses when he notices that VIctor isn't following him._

_"Let's go," He says, extending his hand. Victor looks down as his delicate fingers, the fragile curve of his wrist, and without thinking about intertwines his larger hand with his. Yuri only smiles and pulls him along._

_—as long as Yuri looked at him like that, the world could burn and Victor couldn't care less._

* * *

There were ten minutes left until five o’clock and Yuri scrolled through his phone with disinterest, reading some of the messages he’d been sent and the good wishes for a quick recovery. With annoyance, he turned it off. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate the gesture, but he was a long way from stepping on the ice again—and that’s only if he got lucky—and his therapy wasn’t going as smoothly as he would like. He’d started only a few weeks ago, and it was impossible to expect his body to return to normal in such a short time but it was no less frustrating. 

“Yurio!” He heard Yuuri exclaim and Yuri looked up, ready to greet him and give him a smile but the upturn of his lips froze on his face. Yuuri wasn’t alone, no instead, Victor followed closely behind him.

He swallowed as they came closer and said, “You didn’t tell me Victor was coming.” He focused on Yuuri, trying to avoid looking at the silver-haired man in the eye. 

Yuuri gave him an apologetic look, “He—well, Victor wanted to—“

“Oh don’t be like that, kitten,” Victor interrupted, “I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He came close and slid an arm around Yuri to avoid having to feel the sting at Yuri’s attitude. 

Yuuri only stood to the side, looking at Yuri’s face, trying to gauge his reaction. Yuri had confessed to him that he felt particularly apologetic to Victor because he was the only person he didn’t have clear memories of. No matter how many pictures and videos he’d seen, his interactions Victor still remained large gaping holes in his memory.

With a frown Yuri shrugged Victor’s hug off, “Get off me, old man.”

For a moment something seemed to still and Yuuri looked at him with surprise and Victor backed away to stand in front of him, looking excited. He exclaimed, “You remember!”

Yuri couldn’t help feeling awfully embarrassed at his instinctive answer, his dreams and reality were starting to blur together. He stammered, “I—I—“ Yet the words remained stuck in his throat when he saw the absolute look of pure hope on his face. His heart sank and he looked to Yuuri for help, hoping he would salvage the situation.

At Yuri’s gaping confusion, Yuuri realized that his reaction had been more instinct rather than familiarity. “Victor…” He began slowly, trying to step between them but Victor wasn’t paying attention to him, his gaze firmly on Yuri and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a little irritated that the older man wasn’t being considerate of how Yuri was feeling. Couldn’t he see he was uncomfortable? 

He firmly said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “You’re overwhelming him.” 

Victor seemed to snap out of his fixation and blinked, finally taking in Yuri’s hesitant face. His mood shifted so quickly from excitement to realization to shame to hurt to a fake smile that Yuri almost thought it was his imagination.

“Oh,” He said, taking a step back, “I’m so sorry.” His tense smile not dropping.

“No…” Yuri responded, dropping his eyes to the ground, “I’m sorry. I say things without thinking and sometimes people think I’ve remembered something. It’s awful actually—sometimes it’s instinct and honestly I—sometimes I—“ Yuri’s voice was verging on hysteria and he clicked his mouth shut. More than anyone, he knew how frustrating it was that he couldn’t trust the things he said or did when it related to things about his past. But the worst part was hurting the people around him when they realized that he didn’t remember. And then Victor—Victor had seemed to be a special case since the moment Yuri opened his eyes. He didn’t like the fake smiles, didn’t like to hurt him, even unintentionally. But what could he do? He couldn’t even begin to approach the topic of his dreams—he refused to call them memories—because if it was all part of his imagination he was afraid of Victor’s inevitable disgust—and rejection.

The truth was the _things_ his mind produced were of situations _too_ compromising to be memories. They were memories— _dreams_ —that involved Victor and him in situations that were _far_ from being just teammates or friends. Things that left Yuri staring at his ceiling with his heart in his throat, his cheeks flushed, and a tent in his pants. Things that made his heart race and stomach flutter. Things that gave him hope. The worst thing about it all was that he couldn’t come out and ask anyone about it. Not only because of how embarrassing it would be but because he was _sure_ they couldn’t be more than wet dreams. Desires that he unconsciously procured because he was so attracted to him.

“It’s alright Yurio,” Yuuri said, his voice calming and soft. Yuri focused on his reliability, meeting his eyes, and feeling himself relax when all he saw in Yuuri’s eyes was understanding. 

Again Victor felt that feeling in his stomach—the distaste and annoyance at not being able to do anything. Every single one of his interactions with Yuri only seemed to be driving them farther apart. It was like giving a step forward and then giving three steps backward. And then there was this _thing_ happening right before his eyes—Yuri trusting someone else, looking at someone else for reassurance—and Victor felt as though he was slipping right through his fingers. 

The cafe they had chosen was small and cozy, with a rustic feel to it. It had dark walls, with paintings depicting nature hanging on the walls, and the tables wooden with black metal accents. It was quite nice and as soon as they walked in, one of the waitress approached them with a large smile on her face. 

“The same table as usual?” She asked, recognizing Yuuri and Yuri and Victor felt an current of panic? horror? realizing that this hadn’t been the first time they had been here together.

“No,” Yuri said, “We have company today.” Still overly hyper-aware of Victor. Of his presence, the scent of his cologne, and the way his footsteps sounded. Yuri felt like he was the moon gravitating around him, being pulled in by the weight of his gravity. 

The waitress nodded, taking note of Victor’s presence and she led them to a table further in. When they were all seated, Victor’s suspicions were confirmed when the waitress asked for their orders and both of them responded, “The same as usual.” Victor spent a few moments speaking to her about his order while both of his companions fell into silence. When she left, the atmosphere didn’t let up. Yuuri had taken a seat beside Yuri and Victor tried to ignore his annoyance at that. 

“So…” He began, “How’s your therapy been?” He looked at Yuri, trying to find something to speak about and he belatedly realized that maybe that wasn’t the best topic when he saw Yuri shift in his seat, not answering immediately. 

“I—well, it’s fine.” Yuri finally said, though his tone wasn’t too convincing.

There was something unnerving about being without memories. Sometimes there was progress and other times it felt like he’d remain like this forever. Sometimes he felt like hiding and crying at his misfortune and the pain his leg sometimes gave him. He was sixteen years old, a time where he’d supposed to be figuring himself out and yet because he remembered nothing he didn’t even know where to start. 

He knew nothing about himself, it was almost like he was an impostor, someone who just came along and took over Yuri Plisetsky’s life but he didn’t know how to live it. He looked himself in the mirror and didn’t recognize himself, he didn’t know who he was supposed to be, who he was supposed to become. His past was a blank and his future unattainable. When some of thememories did return, they were veiled in a fog, unclear, and he could barely make out their importance or their purpose. They were all just useless fragments and then some memories were associated with feelings that his body remembered but he couldn’t. Somethings caused him displeasure, others' sadness, others' anger, and yet he couldn’t understand _why._

“I’m glad to hear that,” Victor said, a slight smile on his face. Looking at Yuri now, with his eyes far away and glassy it reminded Victor of the time when he’d cried at Victor’s apartment, demanding he help him find an apartment. He couldn’t offer comfort this time though, no, instead it was Yuuri at his side, and not him.

Yuuri for his part didn’t quite know how to relive the situation so he only grabbed Yuri’s hand and gave it a soft squeeze. They exchanged a look and Victor couldn’t help but comment, “You guys have become really close.” 

Yuuri quickly let go of Yuri’s hand, feeling as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Yuri also pulled his hand back, and looked away from the both of them. But—had that—had that been bitterness in Victor’s tone? He could barely perceive it, but it was there, right underneath the surface. Yuri wondered, idly, if maybe the older man had feelings for the Japanese man. Maybe he wasn’t too keen on Yuuri spending a lot of time with some teenage kid that gave him a bad attitude all the time. This thought only made Yuri feel a tinge of pain in his heart. He was aware of the attraction he felt towards him and it was stupid to think Victor would ever return the sentiments. Why would he pay attention to him anyway? Why would a man like Victor give him the time of day? He could see why Victor would like Yuuri, he was older, nice, easy to get along with, always ready to help or listen, with pretty smiles and kind manners. _Shit._ This wasn’t the time to be comparing himself to Yuuri, not here. 

“Yurio is good company,” Yuuri finally says, distracting Yuri from his thoughts, “It’s been fun discovering Russia with him.” And also…Yurio seemed quite lonely. He didn't seem to have many friends and he didn’t seem the type to just stay at home and be coddled by his family. So Yuuri had thought it would be nice to invite him out, that way they could see the city together and get lost in the streets without worry. They were both discovering things, so Yuuri didn’t feel like he being a burden when he wanted to visit one place or another. Watching Yuri’s eyes light up in amazement like a child only seemed to be the cherry on top.

“You’re good company too,” Yuri murmured, a little embarrassed at having to be so honest. Then he noticed Victor’s gaze on him, he was looking at him levely, but there something in his eyes that made a shiver run down the back of Yuri’s spine. Like he was being scrutinized down to his very bones, like—like he was being—

He swallowed thickly and stood up abruptly, “I have to go to the restroom.”

He grabbed his cane and escaped as fast as he could, not bothering to let them speak. An emotion he didn’t understand threatened to overtake him.

He pushed the door of the restroom open and grabbed the nearest sink to steady himself and the beating of his heart. He looked up, taking his appearance. The bruised had faded, his hair had begun to grow back, he didn’t look like a walking corpse anymore and yet he still couldn’t say he was the boy he'd seen in all the pictures and videos. He was still a shell of his former self and not for the first time since waking up he felt bitter. 

* * *

_Yuri blinked, taking in a slow breath and feeling Victor’s warm cum slipping down his tights. He fell back on the bed, too blissed out to feel angry at Victor’s annoying habit of not using a condom. He felt the pleasant post-orgasmic haze wash over him slowly, his racing heartbeat slowing down to something steady._

_“You’re my everything,” The words were barely audible, mouthed against his skin, but he still heard them—felt them. Yuri felt his heart flutter in his chest and warmth spread inside him, tingling down to the tips of his fingers. He shifted, turning to look at Victor._

_The light of the setting sun that was coming in through the window fell on Victor beautifully, lighting him up in a warm glow. His blue eyes didn’t turn away, didn’t shift, or avoid him. There was a soft expression on his face and Yuri was left speechless. They weren’t the words he wanted to hear, but it was a very damn near thing. Like a beginning. He pressed himself closer, relishing the feel of Victor’s skin against his own. He felt the older man’s heartbeat beating as fast his own and Yuri couldn’t help but lean up to kiss him._ _Victor returned the kiss, slowly letting their mouths meld together, as he traced the outline of Yuri’s body from his thigh up to his back. And though they’d just finished Yuri could already feel himself wanting more._

_He fucking loved this man._

* * *

Yuri held the sink so tightly his knuckles turned white, what the _fuck_ was _that?_ Was he starting to dream with his eyes open now? He couldn’t tell anymore. His head pulsed painfully and he released a frustrated puff of air, turning on the cold water to splash his face and the back of his neck. Why was his mind coming up with these things _now_ of all times? It was like his mind was trying subconsciously sabotage him and it was only intensified by the feelings of jealousy he felt because of Yuuri. He didn’t know why, he didn’t even understand it himself, but the thought of Victor with Yuuri was quickly becoming something that made something sour settle in his stomach. He tried calming down, breathing deeply, and taking a paper towel to dry his face. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and though he’d tried to shake away the discomfort, he felt his legs giving small tremors and his hands unsteady. Things only seemed to worsen when he turned the corner and he noticed Yuuri completely red and stuttering at something Victor was saying.

“So do you?” Victor’s voice was flirtatious and he reached over to touch one of Yuuri’s hands, seemingly trying to get him to look at him. But when Yuuri looked up, he noticed Yuri, and his eyebrows shot up when he noticed the grimace on Yuri’s face. Victor turned too but Yuri could only focus on the way their hands were still touching. 

When Victor noticed the stormy look on Yuri’s face it was like he’d been transferred to the past all those months ago when he’d chased him to Japan. He’d been flirting with Yuuri then too and Yuri's face had looked as though he wanted to kill him before shuttering off into haunting disgust. But this time, Yuri’s face changed to resignation, to something that looked like defeat. 

He pulled his hand away as if he’d put it over a fire. Yuuri stood, not taking note of the quick exchange that had happened, and went to help Yuri.

He aided Yuri the rest of the way to the table and when they were both settled he asked, “Are you alright?”

Yuri, despite feeling anxious and pale, lied, “I’m fine.” But he wasn’t fine. He felt like crying, a feeling of hopelessness overtook him out of nowhere, the feeling of hollowness. He tried breathing to keep his tears at bay but Victor was looking at him like he knew that Yuri was barely holding it together. 

Yuuri notices the way his eyes were quickly filling with tears too and he looked at Yuri shocked, telling him, “No you’re not…” Without really thinking he raised his hand to Yuri’s face, wiping away a tear that had stubbornly slipped out, and Yuri blinked rapidly, trying to dispel them and save himself the embarrassment. “We should take you to the doctor. You don’t look well.”

“It’s nothing,” Yuri protested and waved away his concern, “I just…remembered something.” 

Yuuri didn’t look too convinced, “But…”

“Nothing. Yuuri, it’s happened before,” He argued, feeling a little relieved when Yuuri nodded reluctantly in understanding. Yuuri had been present other times as well, he was familiar with the headaches and the stubborn tears Yuri cried trying to figure out where the memory went in the timeline of his life. 

Victor had only been observing their interaction quietly, but Yuri didn’t dare meet his eyes, he felt like he’d be able to see how Yuri’s heart wanted to escape his chess and he didn’t want him to see how he fell apart over something meaningless, so he said to them, “But…I think it’s best I go home. I’m more tired than I thought.”

He looked at them both, barely managing to gaze in Victor’s direction. He still had that pensive look on his face and Yuri’s need to escape only intensified.

“Okay,” Yuuri said, “I’ll take you home.”

Yuri didn’t miss the way Victor’s lips pursed and the way he set his jaw and…Yuri only felt the need to cry return tenfold.

“No.” He said firmly, glad his voice didn’t crack, “It’s not necessary. You missed practice for this, it’s best you stay and…have a nice date. I’ll take a taxi.”

“But—“ Yuuri wanted to protest but then he noticed the look on Yuri’s face and he backed off, “Well…call when you get home.”

Yuri nodded, standing up, and he pulled out a few bills to cover the drinks and snacks he hadn’t even touched. 

“It was nice to see you,” He told Victor, as steady as he could. “Goodbye, Victor.”

He turned and left and Victor hadn’t liked for one second, the formality in his voice.

_You're so stupid,_ Victor told himself. All this had been because he’d been trying to get Yuuri to tell him if he liked Yuri. He’d tried to be smooth about it but Yuuri had only reduced himself to stutters and stammers, unable to give a clear answer. Which was telling enough. He’d only managed to mess up and make Yuri run away, with tears in his eyes. 

It seems that the only thing he was good at when it came to Yuri lately was making him cry.

* * *

_He felt satisfied, he’d performed well._

_“…we still have to…” Yakov was saying but Victor wasn’t paying attention._

_Yuri was looking at something behind him with a frown on his face. It was something unusual since Yuri barely paid attention to other people. Victor turned and his eyes found the man Yuri was looking at intently. A sharp sting of irritation flared up inside him. It was the Japanese skater again._

_The other skater wasn’t someone that was in Victor’s radar—he didn’t usually pay attention to his competition, not unless they were_ real _competition—and that man certainly wasn’t. He was as generic as they come, his routines forgettable, and the only thing worth noticing was his step sequences. And yet, Yuri noticed him. It put Victor in a bad mood._

_As the man came closer Yuri only analyzed him further and when he was close enough the Japanese man took notice, tilting his head, and asked, with a soft smile, “Do you want an autograph?”_

_Victor had to hold back a laugh when Yuri let out a sound of incredulity, his face horrified. Victor wasn’t usually this mean but the satisfaction he felt at Yuri’s reaction certainly was unkind._

_“NO! Idiot!” Yuri spit, turning away from him and walking away._

_“Eh,” The Japanese man said, confused, “What?”_

_Victor smiled in victory and followed after his grumpy kitten, swinging an arm over his shoulder and pulling him close. Yuri looked up at him irritated and clicked his tongue. On the way back to their hotel Victor couldn’t help but tease him._

_In reality, though, it sometimes scared him how much he loved Yuri. It was different from what he’d had with other people, maybe it was because after the death of his mother he’d promised himself to not fall in love with anyone and yet Yuri seemed to break all his rules. He’d never wanted to feel a love so deep it left him empty years after it was torn from him. He didn’t want to be his father. It had been years, and yet he was still a very pitiful man. He flipped over old albums, stuck in the past, unable to move on, and stuck on the memory of his wife, mourning his lost love and he…Victor didn’t want that. He didn't want to give himself to anyone like that. He refused to fall into a deep love that would lull him into a false sense of security. He’d been witness to one such type of love and he knew what happened once that deep love was lost. Was it even worth it? Was it worth it giving yourself away to someone knowing that at the end of it only pain was promised? Until now it had always been a firm no. He wasn’t keen on becoming torn up like that. He wasn’t willing to risk it._

_But Yuri—Yuri had been different since the beginning. He’d been like water slipping through the cracks of his defenses settling inside him quietly until he couldn’t do anything about it. It had been slow and gradual, slowly noticing his beautiful hair, the expressions on his face when he skated, the way he bit his bottom lip when he was nervous or anxious, the way his dimples showed when he smiled, the way he frowned, the exasperated look on his face when he was annoyed, everything about him had slowly accumulated until Victor woke up one day and realized with horror that he was in love with a forbidden person._

_With Yuri, everything had been unpredictable, a desire that grew quietly overtaking his heart and gripping it tightly. A feeling that made him want to risk it all._

_But Yuri was young. He was young and inexperienced and there were moments when Victor feared one day he would open his eyes and decide that Victor wasn’t what he wanted. He’d wake up and realize that there was a world beyond the now and he’d realize that there were bigger and better things than an old man who’s knees were starting to ache. Yet Victor couldn’t stay away, couldn’t keep a distance to Yuri’s light, like a moth to a flame he followed after him, and when he reached him the only thing that would be in store for Victor was death._

_It seemed so clear the next day, at the closing gala._

_The Japanese skater had challenged Yuri to a dance-off and while at first Yuri hadn’t been on board, Victor could tell he was happy to be finally included in something._

_And as he watched them argue for a moment, everything seemed to clear up for him. No matter how much he loved him, Victor couldn’t weigh him down, couldn’t be the chains that didn’t let Yuri take off._

_“Are you okay?” Chris's voice came, snapping him out of his thoughts._

_He turned and looked at Chris from the corner of his eye and shook his head. Chris, who was his best friend and confidant, the only one who knew about Victor’s illicit relationship—though it had only been because of a slip up on their part—and though he didn’t approve had chosen to remain silent on the subject because Yuri had asked._

_“I just feel like joining them,” He said with his largest smile and took off to the dance floor without saying anything else. He stepped between Yuri and Yuuri, pulling the older close as his dance partner and taking his attention away from Yuri. He felt almost satisfied as Yuri huffed and walked away, a displeased look on his face. It was always pleasing to see him a little jealous._

_“One last time,” He told himself, turning to look at Yuri when he felt his eyes on him as he danced with Yuuri, and something hollow settled in his chest, “Just one last time.”_

_Because Victor wasn’t ready to give his heart away and anyway…you didn’t cut off angels wings and Yuri was—_

_Victor’s blue eyes met Yuri’s green ones and he gave him a wink and the frown on the younger’s face softens. Yuri shook his head in exasperation and huffed his resignation, waving his hand and leaving the venue. Victor would follow him in a few minutes, he’d follow and_ just one last time. 

_—Yuri was an angel that was ready to take off._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note on the translation, lolololol, soooo on the part that Victor says, "You're my everything" the original was, "Te Quiero." I'll be forever salty that there's no direct translation for this phrase in English. It's more than "I like you" and a step below, "I love you." (It's mostly used for family and relationships that are developing to love.) I debated on whether I should use "I love you" to express the feeling of "I'm IN love with you" but then ultimately decided against it because Victor said "Te Quiero" rather than "I love you" bc he didn't wanna say it explicitly, but Yuri understood. idk if that makes sense.   
> But the general idea is the same. I think. 
> 
> anyway, thank you for reading and drop a comment if you have time!  
> Until next time!


	6. надежда

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex! Beware!

* * *

** Memory Lane **

_ by: Miss. Breakable Butterfly _

_** надежда ** _

* * *

_The living room was lit by the dim light coming from the kitchen and the silver light coming in through Victor’s curtains. Yuri shifted in the seat, his ears reddening, as he looked up at Victor and said, “You didn’t have to do all of this.”_

_He was hating the way his heart seemed to be pumping right in his ears, trying to find it’s way out of his body and into Victor’s hands._

_“Of course I did.” Victor responded, setting the small cake he had in his hands on his coffee table and taking a seat beside him on the sofa, “You don’t turn fifteen every day.”_

_Yuri just let out a breath, no bothering to get into an argument about it, he was kinda happy Victor had done this, he’d had_ _a_ _shitty_ , shitty _day. Cake would make everything better._

 _“But Chris and you organized the party,” He remembered, effectively bringing to memory the party from last week and in the process the memories of what had happened_ after _. He felt his face flush involuntarily and by the teasing smile Victor gave him he knew exactly what he was thinking about. Yuri resisted the urge to cringe, he’d completely passed out and he still wasn’t over his embarrassment._

_“But that was Chris’ idea,” Victor says, sparing him any more humiliation, “And I wanted to do something for you.” He reached over to play with a strand of Yuri’s rebellious hair and Yuri felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. It wasn’t even anything sensual and yet he felt hot liquid heat pool at his core. Suddenly, Victor’s apartment was too hot, too stuffy._

_Victor only looked down at him intently and then touched his jaw, running his thumb over his lips and Yuri could only release a shuddering breath. Victor made a little noise on the back of his throat and his blue eyes were quickly darkening into what Yuri had come to associate with want—with desire._

_“I want to devour you…” The older man said, his voice low, so low it went straight to Yuri’s dick._

_But just when Yuri was about to lean in closer to him, Victor backed off and turned away. He blinked, a little lost, he bit his lip to try and stop himself from asking why he’d suddenly stopped. He didn’t want Victor to know how much he affected him, he didn’t want to seem like a child desperate for attention. He’d lived that life enough._

_Victor took the lighter he’d set on the table and lit the lone candle the cake had. He began to sing Happy Birthday to him, his voice soft, and turned to him, smiling, “Make a wish.”_

_Yuri swallowed thickly, trying to calm the jittery feeling inside him and leaned in,_ I wish…I wish to not be alone again _, he began and raising his eyes to see Victor,_ I wish this lasts forever.

_Yuri hadn’t believed in wishes for a long time, but just his once, he allowed himself to hope. He blew the candle out and Victor cheered, clapping his hands and removing the candle from the top of the cake. Then he began to insists Yuri bite it which only resulted in them arguing about it before Yuri ultimately gave up and just did it._

_When he pulled away, he could feel the frosting on his face, on his lips and chin. Just as he was about to reach for a napkin to clean off he saw Victor taking pictures of him on his phone._

_“You’re so cute,” He said, looking over the pictures and Yuri didn’t even have the patience to deal with him._

_“Whatever,” He grumbled, finally taking a napkin to wipe it off but before he could, Victor grabbed his wrist, halting him and pulled him into a messy kiss._

_“It’s really a delicious cake,” He murmured against his lips when they parted and Yuri couldn’t agree more._

_He was glad he’d been sitting down because he was sure that if he’d been standing his knees would’ve given out under him. He pulled Victor closer, fisting his hands on his shirt, letting the older man kiss into his mouth, caressing his tongue lazily until Yuri was dizzy with lust. The icing of the cake didn’t compare to the delicious taste of VIctor’s mouth, no matter how many times Yuri had kissed him, he was always left wanting for more._

_With more confidence than he felt, he swung a leg over Victor’s hips and settled into his lap, grinding down experimentally until he drew out a low groan from the older man. Victor pulled away, breaking their kiss and the only thing that was heard for a moment was their combined breathing. Victor loved seeing Yuri this way, his eyes dark with want, and his face flushed and lips almost bruised red._

_Victor smiled, a fond look in his eyes as he brushed a stray hair away from Yuri’s face. However, he set his hands on Yuri’s hips and moved him off and stood up but before Yuri could protest he held out his hand. Yuri looked at it for a moment before raising his eyes to look at Victor’s and he understood. He stood up as he laced their fingers together and he let himself be led to Victor’s bedroom._

_He was nervous, more nervous than he’d ever admit to himself or anyone else, but he wanted this. He wanted it more than anything else._

_When Victor pushed the door to his room open, Yuri swallowed thickly, he’d been here plenty of times before, but not like this. Not_ for _this. When the bed came into view he gripped Victor’s hand tighter, stopping in his tracks._

_“We don’t have to do anything,” Victor said, his voice calm, as his blue eyes quietly studied Yuri’s every expression._

_“But I want to,” Yuri said, with the same unyielding determination that had made him face all of life head-on. He pulled Victor close, leaning up to kiss him._

_Victor kissed him back, slowly and tenderly as he led him the rest of the way to the bed. The way Victor kissed him made Yuri want him more, the desire he felt, and the emotions he didn’t know how to name threatened to overflow from inside him. He wanted to fulfill the ache he had._

_When the back of his knees hit the bed Yuri pulled away, he leaned his forehead against Victor’s chest._

_“We can stop right now,” Victor said, again giving him the chance to escape._

_Yuri shook his head and then he started, “It’s just—I’ve never—“ Then he shut his mouth closed, he wanted this,_ he did _, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing or any less nervously frightening. He didn’t want to do anything wrong or make Victor think this was a mistake, he wanted…he wanted to be enough._

_Victor had to stop himself from laughing at Yuri’s cuteness. He didn’t know how he’d survived so long without him. But he knew finding amusement in his insecurity was the last thing Yuri needed and that realization made him sober up. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Yuri was more vulnerable than he seemed. Everyone saw him as this genius prodigy that would one day surpass him, the best skater in juniors, an outstanding student, but at the end of the day, after all those layers had been peeled back, he was just a child constantly asking himself why he hadn’t been enough to make his mother or father stay with him._

_“It’s alright, Yura,” Victor murmured grabbing Yuri’s chin and raising his face to kiss his cheeks, “We’ll just do what you want and whatever makes you feel good.”_

_Yuri nodded and let himself be kissed. In the back of his mind, Victor thought that Yuri’s mouth was the most addictive drug he’d ever tasted._

_He pressed one last kiss to Yuri’s lips and then began slowly mouthing down the length of his neck. Yuri only let out soft moans that went straight to Victor’s cock._

_The oxygen in the room seemed to thin because Yuri found it hard to breathe and he felt Victor’s hand wander down his sides. He let his own hands begin to explore the width of Victor’s strong shoulders, but it didn’t seem like enough. He wanted to touch Victor’s skin and have Victor touch him. With trembling hands, he tried unbuttoning the silver-haired man’s shirt, but his attempt was left half done because Victor kissed his lips again, his tongue insistent and his breath hot. Victor’s touch seemed to be scorching against his skin and it only seemed to intensify when he felt his hands slipping under his shirt and going directly to press down on his sensitive nubs. He felt himself jolt at the contact and as Victor massaged them between his fingers he felt the need to get rid of his clothes. Victor seemed to think so as well because he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and Yuri raised his arms to help him get it off faster._

_He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, the feeling of wanting to shield himself from Victor’s eyes coming out of nowhere._

_Victor observed him intently, running his eyes over Yuri’s features and he watched fascinated as the flush on his face trailed down to the middle of his chest._

_“You’re so beautiful,” He said but Yuri frowned deeply, looking at him with annoyance._

_“Beautiful?” He grumbled, “Handsome would be more fitting don’t you think?” But his voice trembled, giving him away._

_Victor shook his head and smiled, “Come on, kitten,” He began grabbing Yuri’s hands, “Let me see you.”_

_Yuri let out a huff and sighed, he let Victor push him back onto the bed. As he scooted back, Victor finished taking off his shirt, and Yuri watched fascinated as he slipped it off, leaving his skin on display. Then something hot coiled in his stomach as Victor slowly undid his belt. There was something sexy about it, he didn’t know what but something about it made his heart pulse._

_Victor undid the button of his pants but didn’t fully take them off and as he climbed in bed after him, Yuri bit his lip, he was just_ everything _he wanted._

_He leaned over him, kissing him and Yuri felt his entire body shiver. He felt more than saw the smile on Victor’s lips, “Are you cold?”_

_He shook his head, he was feeling something completely far from cold._

_Mustering his courage he murmured, “I want to feel you.”_

_This was the spark that lit Victor’s fire, he kissed him hotly, letting their chests press together then he began kissing him everywhere he could. Every inch of his beautiful skin was fair game to suck bruises into. He pressed down on Yuri’s clothes erection as he licked his nipples and Yuri heaved, his hands burying themselves of Victor’s hair._

_“I want—I want—“ Yuri babbled not knowing_ what _it was he was asking for._

_Victor undid his pants and without pulling away began pushing them down, Yuri raised his hips to make getting rid of them easier. Victor continued kissing his skin, going lower and lower, until he was nipping his abdomen and lower._

_When Victor’s mouth enclosed around his cock, Yuri groaned, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head._

_“That—I—“ He tried to say but Victor wasn’t listening, he was focused on giving Yuri’s cock all his attention. The older an insistently bobbed his head and the orgasm that came crashing down on him made him throw his head back and give a silent scream._

_For a moment, the world seemed to still, seemed to pause in the wake of his intense orgasm and it took a moment for everything to come back into focus. He opened his eyes and Victor was looking down at him in amusement. He had a few choice of words to give him but the older man pulled his pants the rest of the way down and then began to take his own pants off. Yuri tried to catch his breath as he watched him—he’d seen Victor naked before but this was different—this was—_

_Looking at him now, with his strong thighs and his erect cock Yuri felt a tinge of anticipation run down his spine. He’d just came but he wanted to be consumed, he wanted to connect with him in the most primal, intimate way possible._

_Victor kissed him again for what felt like the millionth time that night and whispered against his ear, “I wanna be inside you, Yura,” It was like he was a mindreader that wanted to grant his wishes._

_“Yeah,” Yuri moaned, nodding his head._

_He was still a little off balance so maybe that’s why he hadn’t noticed when Victor had gotten hold of the lube, but when he felt his fingers against his entrance, they were already coated._

_“Shhh,” Victor said, when Yuri involuntarily tenses, “It’ll be okay.” He kissed him, trying to distract him from the intrusion of the first finger._

_Yuri let him do as he pleased, slowly relaxing, he trusted Victor more than anyone. It was strange at first, but he let Victor open him up slowly, he didn’t even know how long Victor worked on him but he inserted two, then three, then four fingers and Yuri could only spread his legs wider, to let him go deeper. As he focused on the feel of Victor’s fingers inside him it made him more conscious of the fact that this was really_ finally _happening._

_The uncomfortable feeling disappeared gradually and he slowly felt himself hardening again, ready to come a second time._

_Victor slipped his fingers out and coated his hardened cock with lube and when he pressed against Yuri’s entrance, Yuri could only force himself to relax. The girth of his cock was bigger than all his fingers combined and as he slowly pushed in he could only shudder. Victor was patient, pushing in inch by inch, slowly, until he sheathed fully inside Yuri’s tight warmth. He let his head drop against Yuri’s shoulder, breathing him in and giving a tentative thrust. Yuri tensed again, and he could only hush him as he repeated the action. Slowly, slowly, until Yuri got used to him, until rather than clamp his legs down on Victor’s hips he began to spread them._

_Yuri’s little moans were the indication that Victor had been waiting for. He held onto his hips and gave a forceful thrust and Yuri whimpered pushing back. Their tempo began steadily, their hips moving together, and soon Yuri found himself seeing stars. He dug his nails into Victor’s back, as his thrusts became more forceful._

_He wanted to close his eyes and be swept away by the pleasure but he kept his eyes firmly on VIctor’s face. He didn’t want to miss the way his sweat was making his hair stick to his forehead or the way his blue eyes looked down at him, filled with lust, all for Yuri. He didn’t want to miss one second of it, not when he was in this unguarded state because of him. When Yuri's orgasm hit this time, he didn’t take his eyes off Victor and it was this, Yuri looking up at him, his face flushed, and his mouth open that made Victor cum too._

_For a time afterward, Yuri could only revel at just how good Victor made him feel but at the same time, the love he felt seemed to be spilling out of the place where he could keep it contained._

* * *

The light coming in through the window made Yuri flinch, he turned away from it, making a displeased noise as he covered his head with his blanket. Yet it was useless as he couldn’t fall back asleep. Now that he was awake he knew he wouldn’t be falling back asleep. He let out a sigh and threw the blanket off his body.

He had physical therapy today and then, for the first time in months, he was going to the rink. Yuuri had insisted that he wanted him to see his new free skate and Yuri couldn’t find it in himself to refuse.

He couldn’t say no to that hopeful, expectant face, even if he didn’t want to step foot in the place. The thing was, Yuri was scared, he was scared that without his memories he wouldn't love figure skating as he once had. Everything and everyone around him was related in some way to skating but he wondered if it was still something _he_ liked and not just something he had to like because that’s who he’d been before.

And then there was the thing with Victor, again. He knew Victor was Yuuri’s coach and there was still uncertainty in the way he should behave in his presence. After the incident at the cafe and the recurring _dreams,_ he felt even more doubtful about being around him. He felt something like longing but at the same time he felt fearful and a bitter pain of resignation that he didn’t know what to do with. He felt heartbroken and though he had surmised that he was physically attracted to Victor he didn’t know why he had such convoluted feelings about him. And also, there was Yuuri, he was so sure that Victor liked him and it only made Yuri feel angry at himself because he felt painfully _jealous._ He didn’t like the way Yuuri would speak fondly about Victor and it made him feel worse when he realized that Yuuri wasn’t at fault in anything. Yuuri had been supporting him all this time, he didn’t deserve Yuri’s anger. He didn’t know that Yuri _loved_ —

Yuri’s thoughts drew to a halt and he sat up in his bed. _Love_? What type of stupid thought was _that_? He liked Victor, yeah he wasn’t going to deny it, but love? That seemed too big and deep a word to assign to a man he barely knew.

He shook his head, forcing away all thoughts of Victor, and finally raised himself from the bed, ready to begin his day. He’d been slowly getting better at walking without a cane aiding him, though it did make him slower than ever. But it was progress and this usually put him in a good mood in the mornings, he even began responding to some of the get-well messages that people had been sending him. He’d even gone as far as posting a picture on Instagram which his ever-loyal fans had immediately gone crazy over.

There was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” He called, his voice rough from sleep.

“Breakfast is ready, Yura,” His grandfather’s voice came through the door.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” He responded and there was a moment of silence before—

“Your mother, Valya, and Alisa are here…” His grandfather trailed off, uncertain, knowing Yuri was still not easily accepting of his mother’s presence.

Yuri had many missing memories but if there was one thing he associated well with his mother was a miserable disappointment and hurt. Especially when she acted motherly towards Alisa. Lena had been trying, dragging Yuri to family dinners and to the park and all these other ‘family’ outings, but he still couldn’t get over the feeling of being out of place. Yuri just couldn’t feel close to the family she now had and sometimes, Yuri thought that the only reason she was doing this now was because she felt guilty not because there was a genuine interest in forming a bond with him. He felt like there wouldn’t have been a change if the accident never happened, it felt like this relationship was being built on lies.

“I’ll be there soon,” He forced himself to say, trying to disguise his discontent. Lena’s attention could be suffocating and annoying at times. He didn’t want to be an asshole to her, but in the deepest corners of his heart he was scared that she would leave him again, and she’d just break his heart all over again.

And Yuri, well, Yuri wasn’t in the position of dealing with that type of thing again. He was too busy trying to regain his lost memories and figuring himself out. He’d give her the benefit of the doubt for now and try to be civil but until things remained unclear to him he would keep her at a distance. Only time would tell what would happen and he was fine with that.

Pushing away all thoughts of Yuuri, Victor, and his mother to the back of his mind Yuri finally walked out of his room, ready to take on the day.

* * *

* * *

_It was a cold afternoon, so cold the streets were empty, and darkness began to fall over the city. Victor adjusted his scarf and pouted like a child._

_“I can’t believe you forgot the meat,” Yuri was saying with incredulity, “It’s the main ingredient!”_

_His face was scrunched up in a frown and his cheeks and nose were red from the cold, Victor doesn’t say it out loud but it’s cute._

_“But that’s why I have you,” He says, without embarrassment, comfortable at their domesticity, “To take care of me.”_

_“I really don’t know how you’ve survived so long,” Yuri grumbles, wrapping his own scarf closer to his body as if that would make the butterflies in his stomach settle. He hadn’t been aware of it before, but after months of being with Victor, Yuri had finally found a word to give to the feelings Victor made him feel._

_Love. Such a simple word, four letters, and yet, it meant so much. TOO much. Within its one short syllable, it encompassed so many dreams, desires, and fears._

_Despite the fact that Yuri didn’t have a clear understanding of it, he knew that’s what it was. Love hadn’t been a constant in his life but since the moment they first kissed it had been growing inside him little by little, moment by moment. It had frightened him, at first, it still did, the people he loved tended to leave him behind, they left and didn’t look back. His grandfather had been the only one who had ever stayed. He hated to imagine that Victor would one day leave him too._

_Beside him, Victor let out a whine and a smile involuntarily pulled at Yuri’s lips. He liked begin with him, liked to cook and talk about trivial things, he liked the familiarity, the domesticity. The feeling of belonging. He liked the way Victor looked at him like he mattered, he liked walking side by side with him, certain that if he looked at him Victor would flash him a smile. He liked hearing their footsteps sounding together on the ground as they left loneliness behind._

_A sigh escaped his lips as the feelings Victor invoked in him just flooded him with warmth, like a rare sunny day, filled with light and happiness and hope. The words escaped him before he could think twice, “I love you,” He mumbled almost unconsciously._

_Victor stopped abruptly._

_“I love you,” He said again, louder more confident, raising his head and looking at him directly._

_Yet Victor remained frozen, his posture tense and a look of panic on his face. A slow coldness began to settle into his chest and Yuri’s legs suddenly felt unsteady but the look on Victor’s face made him want to run away.Fear curled in his gut and everything felt like it was falling apart. He ruined it. He should've stayed quiet. Why did he always_ ruing _things?_ _The cold of the outside seeped into his bones and disillusionment settled already knowing that he wouldn’t like what Victor would say._

_The silence that fell over them was like an oppressing force and Yuri shifted from one foot to another, feeling stupid and regretting what he’d said._

_“I—“ Victor began, but the words remained stuck in his throat. The hollow feeling of uncertainty and fear settled inside him and Victor knew this couldn’t go on anymore. During the closing gala, Victor had made his decision, and though he couldn’t deny that Yuri’s words made him elated he couldn’t trust them._

_Yuri was too young, and though he might believe that he loved Victor at this moment, the older man wasn’t sure that it would be so in the future. One day, Yuri might wake up and realize that what he felt wasn’t love. And Victor didn’t want to accept that. Didn’t want to put his hopes and happiness into the hands of someone who didn’t know what they wanted. He just_ couldn't _do it._

_So he did the only thing that he could, he fell back into his old masks, his old ways. He smiled, easily, falsely, like what he had just been told wasn’t a big deal, like Yuri’s confession wasn’t worth his attention. And yet his chest clenched painfully when he saw Yuri’s expression, for a split moment he looked so disappointed as if it was something he had been expecting._

_Yuri cleared his throat and spit, “Though I still think you’re an idiot,” He felt his voice about to crack and a dull pain had formed where his heart was supposed to be. He felt like crying. He shouldn’t have been careless and said those words so casually but they had just slipped out._

_He gave Victor a sneer and began walking again. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to dispel the tears before they had a chance to fall and he pushed down his pain until the cold made him numb. He wouldn’t cry. He’d said his part and know he knew where Victor and he stood._

_“Yura…” Victor murmured unable to erase from his mind the pained looked that had crossed Yuri’s features before shuttering off into his usual ways. But he couldn’t find the words to comfort him or make the situation better. There were no words that would fix anything._

_Yuri turned and sighed, and Victor could almost believe it was exasperation, “Let’s go already, it’s getting late.” He turned and walked ahead, Victor followed quietly behind, and during their whole walk back, Yuri didn’t turn back once. Instead, he walked on ahead, his gaze steadily on what was ahead of him. Watching him walk away was painful but Victor wouldn’t turn back on his decision._

_The time had come and Yuri was ready to extend his wings._

* * *

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and clicking his tongue in irritation. No matter what he did, it seemed as though what he was trying to convey didn’t reflect in his performance. It wasn’t half done either, he’d slaved over it for an entire day and was satisfied but the interpretation failed him. He’d choreographed this entire short thinking about only one feeling and yet it escaped him.

Hope—or rather— _Nadezhda._

In French _espérance_ , in Italian _speranza_ , in Portuguese _esperança,_ and in Spanish _esperanza._ Such a simple word and yet in all languages it held a fragile meaning. That desperate feeling of expectation that mixed with longing and apprehension and boiled down to desires and burning _faith._

People often say that hope is the last thing to die, it’s hope that drives people when they find themselves in situations that seem bleak and desperate. Victor thought it would be suitable to have his program reflect that. He wanted to somehow try to convey that there was always something to strive for even though it might not seem like it. There was always something to hold on to and yet as the days passed it seemed his own hope flickered faintly like a dying candle. He had made this program thinking about someone in particular but that someone seemed to have gone on without him.

Since that day at the cafe weeks ago, Victor hadn’t seen or spoken to Yuri not even once. He hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to visit him or to invite himself along to one of their—Yuri and _Yuuri’s_ —meetings. He didn’t want to listen to Yuri speak to him like he didn’t know him, all formality and forced politeness. He didn’t want to have to see Yuri looking at him with confusion and skirting around the fact that he didn’t remember who he was. He _especially_ didn’t want to sit around and witness him looking at _other_ people for comfort. 

He missed being the only person to know all his tells, missed the way his brows would furrow in annoyance, and the way his face would soften into smiles with shining green eyes and rosy cheeks. He missed their silent understanding and the way they seemed to be able to communicate without words. Now all that was left was cold detachment and Victor chasing after broken memories. 

He wanted Yuri to remember him, _he did_ , but it was more emotionally taxing than he thought it would be and he wondered if maybe…if maybe it was best to let him go…to just…let _it go_ …

* * *

_“Sometimes I really can’t tell what you’re thinking,” Yuri says as they both watched the river below. They had spent the day walking around the Marble Palace museum since the sun was actually out and the skies were a clear blue._

_He sounded more distracted than usual and Victor could only assume it was because he was dreading dinner with his grandfather. And the date. Today was Yelena Plisetskaya’s birthday and the difference this year, as opposed to all the others, was the fact that there would be two more people seated at the table and Yuri didn’t seem at all happy to be attending. In fact, the whole reason they were at the museum today was to stall for time. Maybe if it got late enough Yuri could call his grandfather and say he wasn’t going._

_But the words he says instead make Victor raise an eyebrow in confusion and Yuri looked up and him and laughed. The older man couldn’t help but feel slighted, “What’s so confusing about it?”_

_Yuri shrugged and looked up, his face pensive._

_“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’re always in such a good mood. You’re always smiling…" He motions and then he turns to look at him again, “It’s admirable sometimes but… don't you ever get tired of smiling all the time?”_

_Victor was left speechless for aimless moments. He’d never been asked about his this so straightforwardly before, no one but his mother had ever questioned his fake smiles. For a long time, Victor had just assumed that that was something mothers just knew about their children but then after meeting Yuri’s mother that thought had been dismantled. But here Yuri was, looking up at him expectantly as if he understood him better than anyone—and maybe he did. He’d seen Yuri force polite smiles in the presence of his stepfamily and he’d witness him keep his fake smile on when his mother did or said something that tore open the wounds that she had left behind._

_Yuri huffed and shook his head as if dispelling the tense atmosphere. He extended his hand and laced their fingers together and Victor squeezed his small hand in his larger one. He couldn’t help but feel a weight lifted off his shoulders like there was something in this world for him too. Like he wasn’t alone and empty anymore. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to hope. It felt like after eons he finally found a place when he could be himself, without fear of judgment and rejection. He could be upset and Yuri wouldn’t fault him for it. He could say, “I’m having a difficult time.”_

_Yuri’s simple gestures offered Victor more comfort that anyone ever had, it was like coming home, like Yuri telling him, “It’s okay, you don’t have to fake everything all the time. I’m here to see every side of you.”_

_As they began making their way back across the empty bridge Yuri murmured, “Today’s a nice day,” He looked up and grinned. Under the light of the clear day, Yuri looked as beautiful as ever and Victor felt his heart give a lurch, “You think it’ll be like this tomorrow?”_

_Victor could only hope that it would be._

* * *

For a long time, Victor allowed himself to hope that it would always be Yuri and him. He hoped and hoped that everything would be okay—he let himself have the illusion that a future with Yuri was possible despite everything. But then…Chris had found out and all his fears and all his doubts that he’d refused to consider reared their head with renewed vigor.

With all his fears exposed, Victor had wanted to let him go—to let Yuri seek greener pastures. But it hadn’t been easy. It was hard breaking away from him, it was hard leaving the one person his soul burned for, the one person that had slipped in through his walls and made a home for himself in Victor’s heart. He tried to reason it out, tried to be _logical_ and _rational_ about the relationship they had. He couldn’t let himself be swayed by Yuri—by a _child_ —who probably didn’t even know what he wanted and who would one day realize that everything Victor had done had been _wrong._ He couldn’t give this kid his heart when he would tear him apart later on. 

Then, the video of the Japanese skater surfaced—the same skater Yuri always stopped and looked at—and he felt himself make the decision before he could think twice about it. Katsuki Yuuri had been his way out. He’d seen the video late at night and as he watched him do the program it all seemed to clear up. Yuri would extend his wings and fly out into the unknown but Victor would leave _first_. He’d leave before everything got worse, but he’d give Yuri something else in return. A rival. He’d give him something to draw out his potential and forced him to come out of his comfort zone. Victor was old, he wouldn’t be around much longer to give Yuri a worthy fight, the kid would surpass him,it was only a matter of time. So he’d give him a rival and simultaneously he would kill whatever admiration Yuri had for Yuuri. He could find love anywhere else—with anyone else—but not the man that had taken Yuri’s eyes away from Victor. It was egoistical of him but he didn’t care, anyone would do but Yuuri.

With that in mind, he’d reserved the first ticket he found bound to Japan, only calling Yakov a few minutes before boarding to let him know what he was doing. He’d be half a world away by the time Yuri found out and he wouldn’t have to face him and have his resolve weakened. What he didn’t expect was for Yuri to show up Hasetsu looking as though Victor had personally killed his cat.

_“You promised me a program for my senior debut,”_ He had said and for a moment Victor had fooled himself into thinking that his decision had been correct _._ Yet when he finally gave each of them a program, it was clear to him that they could not be in the same place, it was too hard to keep away from him. It made his stomach flutter every time Yuri looked at him longer than a heartbeat and he pushed down the acidity that would rise up his throat when he saw Yuri’s face when he flirted shamelessly with Yuuri. He tried telling himself that the love of teenagers was a fickle, dangerous thing. Uncertain and fleeting lasting only ephemeral moments before flickering off into nothingness. 

He understood, Yuri was hurt, but it would pass. 

He felt even more certain of his decision when he saw just how hard it was for Yuri to grasp _“Agape.”_ So when Yuri lost Onsen on Ice, he once again forced himself to believe that it was best that they didn’t exchange any words after. Yuri had left without looking back, without goodbye and Victor had thought that that was it. His angel—well, he wasn’t _his_ anymore—had finally departed from him. 

Yuuri had been upset that the young Russian teen had left without a word and had wanted to go after him but Yuuko had convinced him that he was probably long gone. Victor had felt relieved when Yuuri finally dejectedly relented. He wasn’t ready to see Yuri live his life without him.  And as the days passed sometimes Victor could almost let himself pretend that Yuri didn’t mean anything anymore and that their relationship had been something out of a fever dream. He could trick himself into thinking that Katsuki Yuuri was someone he could one day fall into familiarity with. Especially since he honestly liked spending time with Yuuri and talking to him. It helped that as he trained Yuuri he was able to see the hidden talent the younger skater had and he thought, _this was what Yura must’ve seen._

Of course, all his perfect reasoning had completely fallen apart when the Rostelecom cup rolled around. It was easy to pretend when Yuri wasn’t in his immediate presence but the moment Victor saw him, all green eyes and blond hair, he was right back where he started. A senseless sinner in love with an ethereal, forbidden angel. Yuri had barely looked at him but it had been enough and suddenly all the things he’d avoided for months came rushing back in like a tidal wave and they had drowned his heart.

He’d been a complete idiot. And he was only now realizing it. 

Breathing harshly after finishing his program for the fifth time that day, he came to stop, feeling more overwhelmed than he had in a long time. The rink was unusually empty and he skated a few laps around trying to clear his head but he found no comfort. Victor slowed down, gliding almost lazily across the ice along the boards, he looked up to the ceiling and felt hollow.

“My hope is dead.” He murmured to himself, feeling as though he was drowning.

“Hope doesn’t die,” A quiet voice murmured from the side and Victor snapped his head towards the voice, “Just a little hard to find sometimes.” 

Victor felt his breath cut when he saw Yuri standing along the entrance of the ice, for long seconds Victor couldn’t find the right words to say and Yuri shifted and his face flushed at the lack of response, “At least…that’s what my grandfather says.”

It had been eighteen days, ten hours, and twenty-five minutes since he’d seen Yuri last, and though he’d been away from Yuri longer than that, to Victor it had felt like an eternity. Today Yuri didn’t look distant as he had that afternoon at the cafe, instead, he seemed shy and embarrassed. Something Yuri usually _wasn’t._

“So-sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude,” He said finally and as he felt his face heat up Yuri cursed himself internally, he hadn’t meant to open his mouth but Victor had seemed so dejected that he couldn’t help it. He’d arrived a few minutes ago and when he’d seen only Victor in the rink he’d been prepared to walk right back out and wait somewhere else for Yuuri but there had been something about Victor’s slumped shoulders that made him stop. He seemed sad…frustrated…upset about something and when he’d head the quiet murmur he’d wanted to offer comfort in some way. He lowered his gaze, unable to keep looking at Victor in the eyes. He still couldn’t control the emotions that overflowed when he was in his presence. 

Victor cleared his throat, jolting out of the trance he’d fallen into. This was the first time in months that he’d been alone with Yura. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” He said, sliding closer to him, the boards the only thing separating them, “It’s not like your grandfather’s wrong right?”

“Of course not,” Yuri said, a tad defensive. His grandfather was the wisest person Yuri knew. Victor let out a little laugh and shook his head and Yuri frowned, “What’s so funny?” Was Victor laughing at him? He let out an exasperated _tsk_ and turned, ready to go back to his original plan of waiting for Yuuri somewhere else.

But Victor’s voice stopped him, “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just been a while…” He tried to give him an easy smile but it came out looking pained, his earlier amusement seemed like a ghost against the brittle curve of his lips. “I’ve missed that part of you.” Yuri watched as his blue eyes filled with tears and he tried to blink them away but they managed to slip out of his eyes and Yuri could only watch.

_Why?_ Yuri wanted to ask as the intense feeling of longing filled him, he didn’t realize that he’d step closer, bringing his hand to press against Victor’s moist cheek. The older man cradled his hand in his palm and pressed it against his skin. The dreams Yuri refused to think as memories seem to flood his mind and he felt as if his legs wanted to give out under him.

It was so strange. What he felt was overpowering, his emotions seemed to be his own and yet at the same time, they felt so foreign. They swirled inside him, making his heartbeat loudly and painfully in his chest, yet he didn’t know their origin. There was a deep desire inside him wanting to tell Victor that it hurt, that it was painful, that he longed for him, and loved him as he always had. Yet he didn’t know _why._ And that was what terrified him because he wasn’t sure what it was that made him want to comfort him, and he didn’t know where the fear of being left behind came. If he said the words to him would he leave? Would he abandon him again? But that was also something strange because Yuri had never _had_ him to begin with right?

As he looked into Victor’s eyes shook his head, trying to ignore the way Victor was looking at him. Like he was something precious, something to be cherished.

“Why are you crying?” Victor asked, his voice so quiet Yuri had to read his lips to understand what he was saying. Yuri wanted to say that it wasn’t _him_ that was crying but before he could say the words he realized that yes, there were hot tears streaming down his cheeks. They had gotten, so close that the only thing separating them was the board. 

He wanted to step away because his heart was overflowing with such intensity it was almost frightening but before he could Victor pulled him closer and without hesitation brought their lips together. Yuri’s mind completely blanked out. The elation he felt drowned out whatever hesitation he had because— _finally._ Everything reduced to this—to this intense desire that had been growing in him ever since Victor had begun being the protagonist of his _dreams._

He latched on to Victor’s shirt pulling him closer and parting his lips when he felt Victor’s tongue sliding along his bottom lip. He didn’t think about how this could end badly, instead, he let the passion and the love carry him away to a place where nothing but Victor and he mattered. Where nothing but _this_ moment existed.

And Victor—well, Victor pulled Yuri closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and sliding his other hand to tangle it in his hair. He let himself follow after Yuri, his recklessness and love making everything else fade into the background, his entire attention reduced to the warmth and heat of Yuri, only Yuri. Yesterday didn’t matter, nor did tomorrow, just this infinite and at the same time ephemeral moment. 

He didn’t care about how sooner or later they would part and they would have to face all the fears and all the doubts that had been trailing after them like shadows. 

* * *

* * *

Yuuri smiled at the disk, both enthusiastic and nervous. He’d asked _Yuri_ to meet him at the rink today, he wanted to show him his free skate and there was some emotion banging around his chest that made him excited. He wanted Yuri’s opinion because ever since seeing Yuri slowly recover from his accident he’d been inspired to try his best too. To be the best version of himself.

* * *

_You have a lot of talent,” Yurio said as he watched Yuuri’s rerun of last season’s program. His eyes attentively followed the Yuuri on the screen and there was an excited look in his eyes that Yuuri had never been allowed to see before, “It’s why I chose you as my rival…”_

_He said trailing off and looking up at him when the video reached its end. His tone was matter-of-fact and Yuuri felt his ears redden. He didn’t think being called someone’s rival would be so satisfying and yet, he felt accomplished._

_“No-not really.” He tried to argue, “You’re still the best.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to the compliment Yurio had unknowingly given him. He felt proud that Yurio saw him as someone worthy to be called a rival._

_“You’re so dumb,” Yurio said, rolling his eyes and laughing, then his eyes softened into a similar expression like the one he’d had when he’d given him Katsudon pirozhki. Yurio let out a slow breath and then said, “Thanks for being my friend.”_

_Yuuri felt his heart clench, and he couldn’t help the smiling and yet the corners of his eyes seemed to gather tears. He wouldn’t be able to explain why Yurio calling him a friend meant so much to him. Without thinking about it he hugged the younger Russian tightly._

_“You’re such a crybaby,” Yurio complained, yet didn’t pull away, instead he leaned in further into the embrace. They stay that way for a while until Yurio said, “Yuuri, promise me you’ll win.”_

_His tone was unsteady and when Yuuri pulled away to look at his face Yurio’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears._

_“I—“_

_“Promise me.” Yurio interrupted, “Until I return…you can’t lose to anyone else.”_

_Yurio’s future was still an uncertain thing and in a way, forcing Yuuri to make this promise was also a way of forcing himself into returning and recuperating his life. To try and keep fighting to remember the things he’d forgotten and to keep the love he had for figure skating alive._

_“I promise,_ Yuri _,” Yuuri said, a little moved that he’d ask this of him._

_“Good,” Yuri nodded satisfied and then he scrunched his nose, “That means you have to lose a few pounds piggy.”_

_Yuuri could only laugh, who knew he’d be glad to hear Yurio’s awful nicknames again._

* * *

Yuuri blinked, returning to the present and grasped the CD that had his music tightly between his fingers. It was a song similar to Yuri on Ice done by Ketty who’d heard Yuuri go on and on about everything that had happened with Yurio.

* * *

_“You must like him a lot,” She said when he was done talking._

_“Of course, he’s my friend,” Yuuri had said confused. He heard her laugh on the other end of the line and he frowned, what was so funny?_

_“Sometimes you’re really dense Katsuki Yuuri,” She said, but didn’t elaborate instead she said, “I’ll call you when I have the song ready and by the way, congrats on your silver medal.”_

* * *

Even after the call had ended Yuuri hadn’t understood her cryptic words but that didn’t matter, now he had the complete song and his free skate was done according to the music. 

He was so distracted by his thoughts he barely noticed that there was no music coming from inside the rink. He wondered if Victor was still practicing, he was supposed to be using it for the last two hours, and even though he was his coach and he’d been the one helping him and correcting him the past few days Yuuri wanted to show the completed work to Yurio alone.

Taking a deep breath he tried calming his nerves before pushing the door open, Yurio should already be inside. He’d probably made him wait and when he’d probably reprimanded for making him wait so long and make him be in Victor’s presence longer than necessary. Though on the other hand, he felt that having them meet without anyone around would help them get better about communicating. More than once he’d witnessed how quiet Victor got when it involved Yuri and he’d watched Yuri's frustrated face when he couldn’t remember things about someone he was supposed to have known for years.

He looked up ready to call out a greeting and an apology to dispel whatever awkward atmosphere had befallen them while they were alone but the words got stuck in his throat. The disk in his hand almost slipped out of his hands and he had to force himself to keep from exclaiming in surprise because he’d been ready for anything except _this._

Victor and Yuri were in the middle of a desperate, passionate kiss as if their entire life depended on it. 

He doubted they noticed his presence or the world around them.

Without thinking, almost robotically, he turned sharply and walked out. As he leaned against the wall of the hallway he felt the shock crashing down on him and his hands trembled and for some strange reason it was accompanied by the intense feeling of wanting to cry.

_What do I do?_ He asked himself, feeling his heart sink and break at the same time and not understanding why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, y'all, i really enjoyed translating this chapter because it's one of my favorites. ugh, it's just so good. when I first read it I had to, like, take a moment bc just *chefs kiss* 
> 
> anyway, thank you for the kudos and remember to comment and give your love to the original author! 
> 
> ps. I'm starting school again but I'll try to post the next chapter in a timely manner. also, I kinda wanna knock out "the love you took from me" bc it's been on the back burner for a while and I feel a little bad bc I left people hanging since it's the last chapter lolololol. we'll see how it goes though. 
> 
> anyway, stay safe!


	7. Heart Rhapsody (Part One)

* * *

**Memory Lane**

_by: Miss. Breakable Butterfly_

**_Heart Rhapsody (Part One)_ **

* * *

Yuri barely managed to hang on to the board separating them, his lips and attention fully taken over by Victor. His eyes were shut tightly, so much so, he saw stars in the darkness.

He felt tears rolling down his cheek, and he pressed himself closer to Victor, finally, mustering up the courage to tangle his fingers through his silver hair.

This kiss, which felt as desperate as their first, was devastating. It was a tsunami hitting the coast and dragging out every feeling he didn’t understand into the deep ocean and flooding him with those feelings and _memories_ until it became too much. The stillness he felt left him at the mercy of the lips that insistently moved against his own, tasting and savoring with desperation and want. It left him aimless, without regard to the past or the future, just this moment, this instant that held in its grasp the man he had longed for since the first moment he opened his eyes in that hospital bed in Barcelona.

It was a fervent kiss, lips that met in frantic passion as if trying to make up for all the lost time. They knew, each deep in their souls, that there might never come a time for this again. This was the reason why, they only parted for mere seconds, to regain their breaths, before once again, their lips were meeting again. Yuri didn’t open his eyes, instead allowed himself to _feel_ how their kisses mellowed out into something slow and deep.

In the background, the silence was overtaken by a song he recognized. Chopin, if his memory served him right, Cello Sonata in G Minor. It sparked a fleeting memory in him, Stravinsky, Serguei Prokofiev, Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Liszt, Bach, Rachmaninoff and Chopin were some of his favorite composers. He loved how music could express more than words. Music could convey any emotion. Sadness, happiness, pain, love, nostalgia…everything he could ever want to say could be expressed through music.

It was strange that he was remembering that now, along with other useless memories like Alisa’s favorite ice cream flavor, Mila’s favorite color, the lyrics to one of JJ’s songs, the sound Otabek’s motorcycle made when it was turned on, he could even remember…his mother’s debut song, and yet, the importance of all these things escaped him. Like water through his fingers.

Cello Sonata was a composition with four movements: Allegro Moderato, Scherzo, Largo, and Final. _Largo_ though, the third movement, had always, _always_ evoked in Yuri longing and nostalgia for something long out of his reach. It was a piece that peeled back all superficial emotions and left the soul bare at the sound of the cello and the piano.

Yuri held on to Victor tighter, not wanting to let him go, his legs felt like they were on the verge of giving out under him. Yuri felt a shiver run down the back of his spine and a small moan escaped the back of his throat and with reluctance, Victor pulled away. Yuri breathed heavily and opened his eyes to look up at Victor slowly, and a tendril of lust settled in his stomach. Victor looked like something out of his dreams. His usually pale face was flushed, and his breathing labored, his lips red—red because of _Yuri_ —and the way he was looking at him as if he was the world, made him feel slightly intoxicated. That he could produce something like that in _him,_ it made Yuri tighten his hold on Victor’s hair but, before he could pull him down for another kiss, something seemed to spark in the back of his mind and it was like a bucket of cold water was poured on him. _What the_ hell _was he doing?_

He let go of Victor’s hair, and dropped his hand between them, he dropped his gaze to stare firmly at Victor’s chest, unable to meet his eyes, as Victor leaned back slightly. The air between them still seemed to be sparking with the same intense fire when they’re lips first met.

He bit his lip, he could still feel the ghost of Victor's lip on his own.

“Yuri I—“

“Victor—“

They started at the same time and Yuri raised his head and when he met Victor’s eyes he let out a laugh, Yuri couldn’t help but smile, the tears had stopped without his notice and they were quickly drying on his face.

There’s so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask about, and yet, both of them seemed to be a loss. But for the first time since Yuri had woken up without his memories, there was hope welling up in his chest. A hope that seemed to overtake the fear and emptiness and longing he felt every time he looked at Victor. But like everything in his life, the feeling didn’t last long.

He heard someone shout, “Ah, wait!”

But the door to the rink pushed open as Yakov said, “Has Victor not left yet, Mister Katsuki?”

His voice broke whatever peace they had been feeling the past few minutes.

Fear shot up his spine when what he had just been doing finally dawned on him. He’d kissed Victor in a public place, he’d just kissed a man twelve years older than him whose entire life and career could have been _ruined_ because of it. And the worst thing was…

Yuuri was frantically following Yakov as he answered, “I think so!” And his voice sounded frantic.

…he’d betrayed his friend.

He closed his eyes, hearing them talking, and wiped the tears from his cheeks, hoping that would some way also wipe away his ‘sin.’ The ugly emotions that Victor had momentarily chased away came crashing down on him. He felt like no oxygen reached his lungs. _What the hell was he doing?_

He felt like crying, like he was drowning, and it seemed to swallow him whole. He stepped back, wanting to put distance between him and the man before him, still refusing to look at him, as if that would erase what happened mere minutes ago. The world seemed to be shrinking and he felt his lungs burning and his heart beating erratically in his chest. He felt like his legs were about to give up under him.

“Yura,” Victor’s voice seemed to echo in his head, like is he was speaking through a loud megaphone, “Yura…please…”

Yuri shook his head, not even understanding what he was saying no to. He wanted to run but just when he was about to turn, another wave of panic gripped him and this time, his legs did give under him.

“YURI,” He heard multiple people say at the same time, and though he knew who was calling he could not differentiate the voices but it didn’t matter. Darkness clouded his vision and then everything became silent.

* * *

_There was certain happiness in him he could not deny. It was a similar feeling to what he felt when he’d won his first gold medal, the difference, of course, was that this time it wasn’t overshadowed by the worry he’d felt because his mother was in the hospital. No, instead he felt light, something he hadn't felt in a long time, and it was better than an adrenaline shot. His heart wanted to escape his chest and it wasn't just because of the competition he’d won. He wanted to fool himself into thinking this feeling wasn’t any different from other times but it was a lie. And as Yuri and he passed more and more days together it only seemed to strengthen itself in him._

_His blue eyes scanned the rink, slowly taking in every face until his eyes landed on Yuri. He was far away, but Victor could imagine the frown on his face trying to pretend like he wasn’t proud and happy at Victor’s win. He raised his medal in the air in what many would think was a demonstration of his win, but it was a dedication and it wasn’t to his loyal fans or the public that was shouting his name._

_Yuri didn’t look away, though Yakov was telling him something, and Victor knew that he understood his intention. He wished he could go to him, kiss him and hug him and see his smile up close._

_“Congratulations, Vitya.” Chris said beside him, a tired smile on his face, and Victor almost flinched at having been caught unaware. Chris turned to look at what Victor had been so focused on and gave a teasing smile, winking, “I see you have someone to celebrate with?”_

_“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Victor said, his voice flat, but internally he felt the ever-present creeping fear bubble in his stomach._

_When he’d started his relationship with Yura, Victor had been confronted with a series of arguments with himself about his morality and sanity. For starters—though probably the least concerning of it all—was the fact that they were of the same sex. He wasn't against homosexual couple and Victor had many friends that were gay, but in Russia, things were different. It was something that wasn’t publicized, it was only spoken of in secret. It was only something you confided to the people you trusted the most, something spoken about in hushed voices and understanding looks. To Victor who had always been taught that love was what mattered—a lesson that could actually have more problems given who he loved—it wasn’t an issue he had a problem with. He accepted that part of himself. No, the problem was Yuri’s age. It didn’t matter that the child in question was the main breadwinner in his family, as he had put it months ago._

_So that was the real issue. It didn’t matter how much he loved him and how much Yuri loved him back. The reality was that Yuri’s age was what stood between them._

_After the first time they had kissed, when they’d gone back to his apartment and Yuri had fallen asleep in the guest room, Victor could not sleep. After the euphoria and satisfaction had passed, Victor had been overwhelmed by the fact that what he’d committed was a crime. For starters, he still hadn’t broken things off with Irina, so infidelity was already on the table. Though he didn’t love her in the way she loved him, she was his friend and she didn’t deserve Victor’s halfassed affections. They had been together long enough that her father had often made remarks about marriage and children._

_Then he thought about his father, the man that despite everything had always supported him, who cheered him on and during the most difficult time had managed to pull them forward. The man who had raised him and Victor didn’t want to fail him because his heart had suffered enough heartbreak because of his mother’s death. And Victor knew that this—this thing if ever publicized would surely break his heart all over again._

_Then there was Yura. Yura with his sharp tongue and prickly attitude whose heart was so easy to break. A child who found it hard to trust others but yet was ready to give Victor his trust. Trust he felt he had taken advantage of because Yura had not been given the attention and love from the people that were supposed to be his support. It’s obvious he would fall in ‘love’ with the one person he felt was giving him affection._

_Victor didn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning in his bed and arguing with himself in about what he should do over and over. He could still turn back, he could say it had been a something in the heat of the moment, and to him, it seemed like the best course of action to take. All night, he prepared his speech, memorized the response to all the arguments Yura would raise so when he confronted him he wouldn’t be left aimless. If he stopped and considered to move forward with this it would be his undoing. He’d already had a taste of this forbidden fruit and if he didn’t back away now, while there was still time, he never would._

_In the morning, however, all his plans fell apart. He stepped out of his room and heard movement from the kitchen and the delicious smell of whatever Yuri was cooking assaulted his senses. He went closer, and as he approached the scene that greeted him was something out of his dreams, Yuri’s small frame moved around the kitchen with familiarity. Yuri was wearing one of his shirts and his boxer briefs peaked out under the hem that reached the middle of his thighs._ _The saliva in Victor’s mouth seemed to dry up._

_Makkachin barked, making both of them jump, and Yuri tsk-ed his lips at the dog for scaring him but his irritation softened when he saw that it was because of Victor. Makkachin wagged his tail, happy to be petted by his owner. Victor focused on his dog trying not to look at Yuri._

_“Good morning,” Yuri said, giving him a little smile, his was voice low and laced with a tenderness that made it impossible not to look up at him, “I made you breakfast.” He sounded proud and Victor offered him a tentative smile._

_“Th-thanks,” He managed, forcing himself to sound like always but he didn’t quite manage it. Yuri’s smile faded, his shoulders slumping a bit, and he looked at Victor as if he was trying to figure him out, as if Victor had suddenly turned into a complicated puzzle. Victor felt uneasy at the intense scrutiny and turn to look at the table where Yuri had set breakfast up. He took a seat, and reaching for a piece of bacon, “I’ll take you to the station as soon as you finish eating.”_

_Yuri took a seat in front of him and a heavy silence overtook them._

_“About yesterday—“ Victor began but was quickly interrupted by Yura._

_“—You want to pretend nothing happened,” He finished matter-of-factly. Victor looked at him steadily but Yuri didn’t shy away from him. Instead, he stared back defiantly._

_“You know this—“ He gestured between them, “—is not going to work.”_

_Yuri sighed and stood up, for a moment Victor thought it was done and Yuri would walk away angrily and that would be the end of it but instead, Yuri circled the table and he stood right in front of him as he grasped his cheeks firmly in his small hands and turned his face toward him._

_“Tell me that again,” He murmured and he ran his tongue lightly against his bottom lip and Victor couldn’t stop himself from following the movement with his eyes._

_Yuri smiled victoriously as if that was the answer he was looking for and then kissed him. This kiss wasn’t like the one they shared in the balcony, all desperate and filled with recklessness. No, this was the slow kiss of relief, of serenity, and for Victor—surrender._

_He pulled Yuri closer, wrapping his hands around his waist, and letting him fall into his lap. He had tried flipping the coin and Yura had snatched it right out of the air and made the decision for both of them. That’s how it had started, and he’d turned away from the problems that had plagued him and focused only on Yuri._

_But here, now, as Chris looked at him inquisitively he felt the uncertainty rise again out of the deep ocean he had thrown it in._

_“It’s okay,” Chris said, his gaze knowing. The Swiss man had been one of the first to know about his breakup with Irina and though he hadn’t understood why at the time, he had been supportive. He offered Chris a trembling smile and tried to push back down the fears that wanted to spring out. This was what his life had turned into, a series of lies to himself to keep his consciousness from drowning him._

* * *

Yuuri was looking at Victor as though he thought this entire situation was his fault. Victor cleared his throat, looked away, not knowing what to make of Yuuri’s aggravation.

“I’ll call Nikolai,” Yakov said tiredly and turned to Victor, “I’ll look your program over another time.”

Victor nodded and just as Yakov was about to pull out his phone, Yuri’s voice interrupted, “Wait,” His voice sounded rough but he continued, “Don’t, it’s not necessary. He got up from the bed slowly, looking pale and unsteady as if he’d pass out again at any moment.

He blinked his eyes, trying to focus his blurry vision.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Yuuri said, going to Yuri’s side and helping him stand up. He brushed away some strands of Yuri’s blond hair, blocking him from seeing the other two occupants in the room and Victor couldn’t help the irritation that flared up in him. Yuuri wasn’t the only one worried here and yet he seemed to feel as though Yuri needed his reassurance.

“Are you sure?” Yakov asked, his brows furrowing, not totally convinced at seeing Yuri’s difficulty standing up on his own.

“Yeah,” He answered, glad his vision was finally focusing, but he held on to the bed just to be sure he wouldn’t fall. He took a deep breath and raised his head, “You don’t have to bother him. It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” The coach shook his head, too well acquainted with Yuri’s stubbornness.

“I can take him,” Victor offered, moving closer as he tried to catch a glimpse of Yuri over Yuuri’s shoulders.

“ _No!_ ” The Japanese man forcefully said, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Yuuri flushed, realizing what he’d just done, and he cleared his throat, “What—What I mean is—it’s not—I can take him. Besides, Yakov and you were going to look over your new short program, weren’t you?”

Though Yuuri’s reasoning seemed solid, something was hidden in his tone that made Victor suspicious. 

Yuri finally seemed to not need any assistance and pulled away from Yuuri. He bit the inside of his cheek but said nothing, the last thing he wanted was to be alone with him. He still couldn’t get over what he’d done earlier.

Yakov’s deep sigh snapped all three of them out of their thoughts.

“Are you fine going with him?” He asked Yuri and he reluctantly nodded.

“Yeah,” He began, “I was supposed to meet up with him anyway,” He shrugged, trying to seem unbothered, “It’ll be fine.”

Yakov let the conversation drop and motioned to Victor, “Let’s go. You said you wanted to talk to me about something.” And without waiting for Victor to follow he made his way back to the rink.

Before following after him, Victor stepped closer to Yuri. He wanted to talk to him, there were so many things he wanted to tell him, yet he couldn’t, Yuuri’s presence was a shadow over them. But he still cupped Yuri’s face in his hand and Yuri looked up at him expectantly and for a moment, Victor though about kissing him again.

“Call me when you get home,” He said instead and the younger nodded, the apples of his cheeks faintly red, and Victor couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing his cheek, “I was glad to see you today,” He told him as he pulled away and Yuri looked even redder but he didn’t seem angry.

“Yakov’s waiting,” Yuuri said drily, and Victor wasn’t deaf to his dismissive tone. Victor couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when he saw Yuuri’s eyes filled with irritation but he brushed it off and gave them one last goodbye before leaving.

As Victor left the infirmary, his heart beat loudly in his chest out of happiness. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time and it almost seemed childlike in a way. Not even Yuuri’s hostility could dampen it. It didn’t matter, not when Yuri looked at him with clear, bright eyes for the first time in months.

And after days of not knowing what to do or what to hope for, it seemed the sun was finally shining on his gray world.

* * *

_It was a week after worlds and Victor had been busy giving a series of interviews that he’d barely managed to spend any time with Yura in the past few days. So that afternoon, when he finally went to his training, when he saw him again an intense affection rose within him. It was something that just seemed to be growing and growing and he felt his smile widen and when he stepped on the ice, it was like coming home._

_When the training session was over, Victor decided to stay a few hours after as he usually did after a competition. Yakov reluctantly agreed telling him, “Don’t overdo it.”_

_Victor nodded, it wouldn’t do anyone any good if he injured himself._

_The majority of the other skaters left and little by little silence fell over the rink until he was alone. Victor enjoyed moments like these, they were rare, especially since the club had other events other times, but when it was just him and the ice, he could let himself enjoy it. The main sound system had been turned off but Yakov had brought out the old stereo they used once when the overhead system had some wiring issues. He plugged his phone in with aux cord, scrolling through his music library to find something to skate to. He settled on Ständchen by Liszt eventually, deciding he wanted to start with something slow._

_He let himself be carried away by the music, not really caring about what he was doing but halfway through the song, just as he was coming out of a triple loop, he heard clapping that made him look towards the boards._

_“You must be in a miserable mood,” Yura said as the song continued to play and Victor shook his head, making his way toward him._

_“I’m not, I just decided to start with something more…calm today.” He came to stand right in front of him and Yuri made a face. It’s true the song was slow but it was too sad, in his opinion. He picked up Victor’s phone, entering the password, and going through his music library and rolled his eyes._

_“You don’t like my taste in music, kitten?” Victor asked with a mock pout on his lips._

_Yuri clicked his tongue, “You have more pop on here than a teenage girl.”_

_Victor grabbed Yuri’s nose between his fingers and wiggled it, “You say that like I haven’t seen_ your _music.” Yuri swatted his hand away, “I’m pretty sure I saw Adele and Rihanna’s entire discography on there.” He laughs as Yuri’s cheeks pink and his frown deepens. Victor only shakes his head as Yuri finally finds a song that he wants to listen to._

_The slow cords of the guitar resound in the rink, and Yuri can feel every note of the guitar in his veins. He knew this song, it was one of his favorites, Jimmy Page’s mastery of the electric guitar was something that he’d always found fascinating. That, coupled with Robert Plant’s voice singing Since I’ve been Loving You was something that always managed to relax him. And despite the lyrics being about a failing relationship, it was one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs._

_He found himself mumbling the words unconsciously. Maybe one day he’d dance to this, he could almost see it. It would be all slow and sensual movements, enough to tease, to provoke. His eyes found Victor’s and he thought...it’d have to be private._

_“Come here, Yura,” Victor suddenly said, and his low voice made something in Yuri tremble. The older man offered Yuri his hand as if asking for a dance and Yuri shook his head at his antics. But he set the phone back on top of the stereo and took it. Victor gave him a smile as he skated back, pulling Yuri with him, and without Victor having to tell him, he followed him, letting him lead. Yuri had often seen the ice dancers when they practiced, watched them as they moved as one across the ice, and he always wondered what that felt like. He didn’t fight against it, didn’t put up a fight like he would have if they had an audience. No, instead he let Victor do as he liked, pressing him close and feeling his hands on his hips as he guided him across the ice as if they’d been doing this for years._

_As the song slowly came to an end, they found themselves in the center of the rink, a little breathless, though it had nothing to do with being tired. No, this was a little different. Yuri looked at the older man without his gaze wavering and he knew what he wanted. He knew what Victor wanted too._

_“Shit,” Yuri murmured before leaning up and pressing his lips to his. Desire and….something else ran through the blood in his veins. It made him forget that they were in a public place and they’d be thoroughly fucked if anyone saw them. But for mere seconds he didn’t care, he didn’t want to care, but Victor, ever the more conscious one pulled away._

_“Let’s go home,” He said, his voice thick. Victor was past the point of pretending that Yuri wasn’t what he wanted. He did. He did, he wanted him all swollen lips and messy hair, he wanted him flushed red and sweating, he wanted and wanted and wanted._

_Yuri nodded his head, as he took a deep breath and skated towards the exit._

_Victor followed after him, going to grab his phone and turn off the stereo._

_“I’ll go put this thing up…” Yuri began, picking up the stereo but just then his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and exclaimed, “Fuck! I gotta go, I’ll be home later.” And before Victor could ask what the problem was he leaned up and pressed a peck to his lips and gave a grin before taking off running towards the upstairs storage closet. Victor watched him go, a little confused at being suddenly abandoned. He sighed and reached down to begin untying the laces of his skates when he heard Chris’ loud, absolutely shocked voice, “What the_ fuck _was_ that! _”_

_Victor froze and when he felt his heart drop when he looked up and his friend was looking at him like he didn’t know him._

_He was well and thoroughly fucked._

* * *

The infirmary was quiet now that it was only Yuuri and him. He didn’t have the energy to fill in the silence, so it only dragged on. He was still reeling from everything that had happened in the last hour. Victor had kissed him, he’d kissed him like he Yuri was the fountain of life, like he _needed_ him to live and Yuri had kissed him back with the same ferocity.

“We should go,” Yuuri finally said, and Yuri almost flinched at the sound of his voice. It was scary how easily he could get lost in his memories and forget he wasn’t alone. He looked up and Yuuri was looking at him with a strange look on his face. There wasn’t any judgment in his gaze, but there was something about it that made Yuri feel on edge.

“Yeah,” He answered, lowering his eyes, uncomfortable. He reached for his cane that had been resting on the side of the bed and lying there innocently, was a disk.

For some reason, the reason he’d been at the rink today flashed across his mind.

He was there to see Yuuri’s new free program, they had agreed to meet at the rink, in the same place were Victor and he had…

He looked up sharply to see Yuuri pretending to busy himself picking up his things. His posture was tense and he looked as though he’d rather be anywhere but there at the moment. He felt that same awful sensation as earlier, the one where he felt like there wasn’t enough air reaching his lungs.

“You saw us…” He said before he could stop himself and though his words weren’t loud, Yuuri heard him loud and clear. He didn’t say anything and fear gripped him so fiercely he almost felt like the world was tilting again.

Yuuri finally turned to him after a few seconds of contemplation and when he saw Yuri close to hyperventilating he came closer, worriedly saying, “It’s alright, calm down.” His voice was quiet and reassuring but it only caused Yuri more despair, _why was he being so nice?_ He didn’t deserve it at all he—

“ _Yuri,_ ” The older man said, “Please, just—just breathe.”

His hands grabbed Yuri’s shoulders, looking at him head-on, “Just focus on me,” He said, breathing in and out slowly and Yuri tried to mimic him. It took a while before Yuri was breathing in time with Yuuri’s slow inhales and exhales but he managed it. He focused on the calming sound of Yuuri’s steady breathing and in the way Yuuri was still looking at him kindly.

“S-sorry,” He apologized, though his throat still felt clamped. He felt too off-balance, scared, and above all tired. This whole day had been a rollercoaster and though he wanted nothing more than go home he knew he needed to talk to Yuuri. He couldn’t leave things as uncertain as they were.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri belatedly answered. His earlier confidence at bringing Yuri down from the verge of a panic attack was quickly receding.

Yuri nodded his head, though there was still so much to be said. He grabbed his cane and the disk, handing it to Yuuri as he commented, “Sorry I wasn’t able to see it.”

Yuuri’s shoulders slumped a bit and he gave a forced smile, “It wasn’t that important. Your health is what matters.”

Yuri didn’t know how to answer that, conscious of the fact that what had caused his panic didn’t have anything to do with his health. He remained quiet and followed Yuuri out of the sports center.

There was a foreign tension between them that Yuri wanted gone. When they got on the taxi that was waiting for them, Yuri didn’t hesitate to give the man the address to a place he hadn’t been to in a long time. Yuuri was too busy looking pensively out of the window to pay attention or protest. He didn’t want to travel all the way to the station and then to his grandfather’s house. He didn’t think he could bear the heavy atmosphere that had befallen them for that long.

As the buildings passed Yuuri took in every one of them in, and Yuri was sure he did not miss the familiar area were Victor’s own home was. Still, the Japanese man made no comment. When they finally arrived at the familiar building from Yuri’s memories Yuuri finally seemed to realize that they weren’t going to his grandfather’s house. As Yuri paid the driver and stepped out of the vehicle Yuuri, as he took in their surroundings asked, “Where are we?”

“My old apartment building,” Yuri answered, looking up at the place and feeling, for the first time, that he was actually coming home.

“What?” Yuuri asked in surprise as they made their way in, “Why?”

Yuri shook his head but just as he was about to answer a vaguely familiar face greeted him.

“Yuri Nikolaevich!”She exclaimed, surprise and delight on her face. Yuri knew her…he’s sure but he couldn’t quite remember…

He gave her a polite nod but she didn’t hesitate to come close, kissing both of his cheeks in greeting, and Yuri felt even worse at not remembering her.

“I’m so glad to see you!” She continued when she pulled away, “Victor Victorovich informed me about your accident.”

At this, something sparked in Yuri’s memory.

* * *

_He was sitting at the table, with a plate of homemade cookies in front of him and a cup of hot chocolate._

_“So,” The woman began, “You’re making your senior debut next year then?” She sat in the chair in front of Yuri. She had a cup of coffee rather than chocolate. Yuri nodded and the woman smiled brightly, “That incredible! I’m sure your family must be so proud!”_

_The woman looked to a picture hanging on her wall. It was a family portrait with five smiling faces looking back. A soft expression overtook the older woman’s face as she looked at her family. She had told Yuri that her children visited, but they were busy, and ever since her husband died she hadn’t had companions other than her tenants._

_“I sure hope so,” Yuri murmured, lost in his own thoughts._

_The woman turned to him, and Yuri picked one of her delicious cookies. He wondered what she thought about him. This underage kid who didn’t get many guests and who spent the majority of his time at school or in the rink or at home. The only person besides himself that had ever come to this place had been Victor. Maybe that’s why she felt sorry for him, because he seemed lonely, just like her._

* * *

When Yuri blinked, the memories seemed to solidify in his mind and he couldn’t help but smile at her, sincerely. He remembered her! He remembered the taste of the cookies she would bake him and the hot chocolate she would offer him on the cold mornings before he went to school.

“He must’ve exaggerated it,” He said, “It wasn’t that bad.”

Yuuri looked at him in surprise, probably shocked that Yuri remembered her so easily.

The woman shook her head and smiled, she was familiar with Yuri’s tendency to downplay the big things.

“Well, I’m just glad to see you again. The building hasn’t been the same without you.” She said, looking away from Yuri and noticing his companion, she offered him a smile too as she excused herself, “I should be going, I’m sure you have things to do and I don’t want to keep you.”

Yuri nodded and with one last final goodbye she was gone. Yuri felt a little wistful at her kindness, unused to being missed by people other than his grandfather and Mila—who despite her initial hesitation to get close to him again had started to act like her usual self again and called him every day to talk and gossip. Now there was Yuuri too. It seemed that little by little he was gaining more and more people who cared deeply about him.

“This way,” He said, motioning for Yuuri to follow as he walked towards the elevator. The more time he spent in the building the more Yuri remembered about it. When they finally reached his front door, with shaking hands, he pushed the door open.

How long had it been since he had last been here? He couldn’t say. After coming back to Russia from Spain, he’d been taken directly to his grandfather’s house, and before that he’d been staying with Lilia for the months leading up to his debut.

So it was no surprise that there was a layer of dust on every surface and the state of the entire apartment was less than desirable. Though it wasn’t as bad as it could have been since he had paid to have it cleaned just a few weeks before the Grand Prix final.

He stood in the center of the living room as he took in his surroundings, this was the place he had called home and it was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He didn’t know how to feel about it, to be honest. Yuuri looked around too, seeing the possessions Yuri had left behind from his previous life.

“I should probably open the windows,” Yuri said, finally.

“I’ll help you,” Yuuri offered as it would give them both something to do.

They went around each room, pushing open the windows to let fresh air in, and when they opened the doors of the balcony Yuuri exclaimed, “I can’t believe this is the view from your balcony!”

Yuri was surprised at his enthusiasm but couldn’t help but agree. Yuri came to stand beside him and he had the intense sense of deja vu. Yuuri turned to him and gave him a smile that—for some reason—made Yuri think of—

* * *

_“It has a balcony,” Yuri says. His eyes and face illuminated by the faraway city lights. He looked up to Victor, who was smiling down at him, “It’s perfect.” He said in a small voice, distracted by the way Victor was looking at him._

_“I’m glad you like it,” The older man answered and Yuri felt his heart rate pick up._

_He felt nervous, there was some intense emotion in Victor’s eyes and it did things to him. The wind blew and he felt it ruffling the strands of his hair he tries to blow it away but it stubbornly falls back on his face but before he can swipe it away with his hand, Victor tilts his head up, his hands warm on his skin. He pushes the hair behind Yuri’s ear but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he looks down at him with a soft smile on his face and Yuri can’t tear his attention away from him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he feels his cheeks beginning to warm, he knows what he wants the older man to do. He only wondered if Victor would stop denying this for both of them._

_Days ago they had been in this exact same position and Victor had pulled away from him abruptly, like if he was something that burned him._

_Victor’s quiet voice snaps him out of his thoughts, “You’re eyes have blue pecks.” He says it as if it was something he was just realizing it. He tilts Yuri’s head back even further and he’s so close Yuri can feel his warm breath tickling his skin. He doesn’t realize that he’s reached for him until he feels the lapels of his jacket between his fists. He looks at Victor for a fraction of second and then he leans up, letting his eyes fall closed just as…Ah, there!_

_Victor’s lips are warm against his own and Yuri moves his lips slowly, aware of the fact that he’s not too experienced in this. He follows what Victor does and he must be doing something right because Victor doesn’t pull away, instead, he pulled him closer. Their bodies are flush against each other, and Yuri hears the wild beating of his heart in his ears and under his palm, Victor’s. He lets out a moan when Victor nibbles on his lower lip and when Yuri opens his mouth, Victor uses this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Yuri has never been kissed like this before—there had only been a classmate that he thought was cute—but this—this was a_ real _kiss. It made a shiver run down the back of his spine and the world faded and disappeared under this spell he’d fallen into. Victor kissed him like he wanted him—like he_ needed _him._

_It was everything Yuri wanted and more._

_When they finally parted, the world was never the same again, and since then everything had sparked into something truly beautiful._

* * *

Yuri blinks rapidly as he tries to hold on and dispel the memory at the same time. He swallows thickly as Yuuri looks at him strangely now. Yuri quickly looks away from him, as if trying to shield the memory from him. He holds on to the railing of the balcony until his knuckles turn white.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asks, worriedly.

Yuri nods, “Everything’s fine.” He takes a deep breath and lets the railing go. He shakes the memory—illusion—away and tries to not let it get to him. Instead, he says to Yuuri, “Let’s go inside.”

Yuri doesn’t really wait for Yuuri to agree, he makes his way inside and into the kitchen. There’s not much of food in the fridge or pantry but he finds a box of tea bags and when he’s made sure that they aren’t expired he decides to make one for Yuuri and one for himself. He notices Yuuri in the living room pacing from one end to the other pretending to find Yuri’s furniture fascinating. When Yuri remembered why they were in this state in the first place he felt the back of his neck flushing again. He busied himself with finishing preparing the tea to give his hands something to do, but the inevitable conversation had to begin sooner or later.

He takes both cups and sets them on his little dining table. Yuuri comes to sit right in front of him and Yuri is thankful the table is between them acting like some form of false protective barrier that hides the anxious fidgeting of his legs. They remain in silence for a while, both just focusing on sipping their tea. But Yuri is not a patient person, and after another bout of silence he sets his cup loudly on the table and clenching his hand into a fist looks at his friend.

“Do you like Victor?”

The words are out of his mouth before he can really stop them and they come out snappy, more as an accusation rather than a question. Yuri feels his heat begin to rise to his cheeks because this wasn’t how he wanted this conversation to start. Not when what he really needed to do was ask Yuuri to not say anything about what he had seen earlier. But no matter, the words were out and now the only thing he could do was listen to what Yuuri had to say, even if he didn’t like it.

Yuuri clears his throat, almost choking on his tea, but when he notices Yuri’s looking at him expectantly he lowers his cup to the table. Truth be told, Yuuri doesn’t know how to answer the question. His feelings for Victor had gone through a variety of changes. Sometimes what he felt seemed clear but there were other times where they felt like something completely out of his depth and therefore he chose to ignore them. He had admired him for so long that he didn’t know if there could be any way to neatly name everything he felt for the older skater. And then there was Yurio. Who now seemed to be everywhere Yuuri looked and the emotions he felt seemed to be fluctuating again. Yurio had become a rival in skating he didn’t know he wanted and needed and it had pushed him to try and become better. Then after the accident they had become so much closer.

“Yes,” He absentmindedly says as he keeps on thinking about everything that’s happened up until this point.

“Oh…” Yuri mumbles, and Yuuri notices the way his mouth seems to want to downturn. The younger boy focuses his gaze on the table and doesn’t meet Yuuri’s eyes, “Tha-that’s good.”

He seemed to be trying his hardest to accept the information he’d been given but when he finally looked at Yuuri, it seemed as though he was looking at something far beyond him. There was an expression on his face that he recognized. It was a sad sort of resignation that made Yuuri’s heart go out for him. It was the face of someone who was used to disappointment, someone who had already given up before trying, the face of someone unwilling to argue or try to do something to change an unchangeable situation. It was something _he_ was familiar with. But seeing Yuri—the one who’d screamed at him in a public restroom, who had flown out to Japan, who had challenged him and had fought with everything he had on the rink—didn’t seem right. And right now, as he watched Yuri forcefully blink away the tears from his eyes he couldn’t help but almost hate the people that had ever made feel Yuri like he wasn’t enough.

“That was a stupid question,” Yuri says, giving a little self-deprecating smile, his voice trembling a bit, “You gave him an engagement ring. Of course, you like him.”

Yuri feels a pain in his chest that he tries to ignore. He knew this. He knew Yuuri loved Victor, he had known it since a forever ago but it doesn’t lessen his pain. Doesn’t stop his heart from lurching in his chest at the realization that he had been getting between them. He cleared his throat, ready to begin giving Yuuri some sort of explanation about what had happened earlier, he needs to let him know that it had been Yuri that kissed Victor and not the other way around. But just when he was about to open his mouth, Yuuri reached over the table and grasped his trembling hands. Yuri could only imagine how pathetic he must look.

Yuuri pushes both of the teacups out of the way and his hands are warm as they envelop Yuri’s. The blond tries to not let this distract him but it does. The words he was going to say don’t come out and silence envelops them again.

“It’s true I like Victor,” Yuuri begins, his voice soft and he does not pull his hands away. He looks down at their hands and he seems a bit distracted, but it’s not enough to distract him from taking notice of the tears that have finally begun to slip down Yuri’s cheeks, “But I like you too, Yuri.”

Finally, Yuuri looks up into Yuri’s eyes and there is nothing but soft fondness in them.

Yuuri holds on to the younger’s hand for a few infinite seconds. There’s something he’s realizing now when it’s all over and all too late. He feels a sense of loss that is hard to explain, a muted pain in his heart, a painful beat of blood in his veins. Yuri intertwines their fingers together, and he sniffs wetly because of his tears, but to Yuuri, he looks as amazing as the moment he won the Grand Prix. Even through the blotched cheeks and red nose.

_Ah, it’s seems so obvious now._ So obvious and so late. Always so late. He knows what it is now, it’s not too far removed from what he had felt for Yuko, once upon a time. Such a simple word that encompassed so many things. He’s familiar with the sense of loss too, the type that comes before you have any say in it. Like when Yuko had said she was getting married.

“It’s true that I like him. But I don’t think it’s the way you’re thinking Yuri.” He continued, and Yuri’s name felt like ashes on his tongue now that everything seemed to be clear to him. Ketty had been right, he was too unaware of his own feelings for his own good. He wiped Yuri’s cheeks, and forced a smile, “Both of you are my friends and I—“

Yuri shakes his head and interrupts, “That’s not what I mean. You. You’re in love with him.”

Hearing the words out loud seems much more painful that Yuuri thought it would be.

“N-no.” He chokes around the denial and he knows he’s not doing a good job at trying to convince Yuri. He’s always been such an awful liar. But he says again, clearer, “No. I’m not. He’s very important to me because he’s been with me when I needed him the most. But—it’s not—My feelings for him are not like that. I feel for him the same thing I feel for you.”

And that’s not a lie. In fact, that statement is probably the only time he will ever tell the truth about this.

Yuri sighs, looking a little more relaxed.

“And you?” Yuuri finds himself asking because he just wants to know, “Are you in love with him?”

Yuri looks at him with a gaping mouth and the Japanese man tries to give him a reassuring smile.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Yuri confesses honestly and his hand's grip Yuuri’s tighter and if trying to anchor himself to earth. And Yuuri remembers just how painfully young Yuri still is. He looks lost and confused, he says again, “I really don’t know.”

But Yuuri knows that’s a lie, and Yuri probably knows it too.

Even if Yuri ignored his dreams, he could not ignore the way his heart beats anytime something happened that had anything to do with Victor. He couldn’t deny the way his eyes would automatically find him and follow. And he certainly couldn't deny that what had happened earlier had made him happier than anything ever could.

He stands from the table and Yuuri looks at him in confusion but quietly follows after him. Yuri walks around his living room as if that’s how he would find the right answer. Yuuri takes a seat on the sofa and quietly watches.

“Yes.” He finally admits, stopping in the middle of his pacing. The confession seems to lift something off his shoulders. He had fought and fought so long to keep these feelings from growing and yet they had. He flops on the couch beside Yuuri, “But it’s weird right? It’s not…right. And I don’t want to hurt him.”

Yuuri almost laughs, not because the situation is funny, but because the one who should be scared of getting hurt isn’t Victor. Yuri has been through so much in the past year that Yuuri’s scared he might only get hurt further. Yuri had been hurt enough by the people he cared about to have this added on to it. His mother hadn’t even gone to see him in Barcelona! He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Victor hurt him more.

“You’re not going to hurt him.” Yuuri says because that’s the only thing he can think to say, “Besides, things aren’t that simple. You’re very young, you know?”

Yuuri could sit there and give a number of reasons why this thing was destined to fail from the beginning. Yuri was still a child, a child with the majority of his memories gone and it might be that he was just confused. Who even knew how much Yuri even remembered about Victor.

“But I can’t help what I’m feeling,” Yuri says, laying his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. He knows that there’s a great impossibility in his love but Yuri doesn’t want to think about it. He looks up at Yuuri and he touches the place where his heart would be, “It’s like a pain right here,” He says, “Something that seems to be eating me alive. I have no reasons to love him but I know I do. And my memories are all over the place but it’s more painful being away from him. It’s hard to pretend that I don’t want anything to do with him. And I don’t want to keep doing this…I’m tired of doing this…”

There are moments when the need to be by Victor’s side is overwhelming. He didn’t know why, he just wanted to be near—to have his attention on him. And though Victor had kissed him earlier, and though Yuuri had told him that what he felt for Victor wasn’t love, he still felt like there was something wrong. Like something was still unsettled.

He felt tears in his eyes again, and he pressed his face to Yuuri’s shoulder and the older man just wrapped his arm around him, letting him cry his frustration out. He felt guilty for the relief he felt at Yuuri telling him his feelings for Victor weren’t love because he knew, _he knew, he knew_ that Yuuri was lying. And yet he’d backed down.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but they only pull apart when Yuri’s phone begins to ring in the silence.

“Hi dedushka,” He says into the receiver with his voice as level as he can manage, “No, I’m not going there today. I’ll stay with Yuuri. I’ll go back tomorrow. I love you too.” He hung up and looked at Yuuri to belatedly ask, “Will you stay with me?”

“Yes, Yuri,” Yuuri answered. And he didn’t refer to just tonight. He’d stay with Yuri always, as his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it only took a month for me to update lolol yikes.  
> anyway, just two more chapters to go my dears!!!  
> I'm excited. lolol.  
> next chapter should come much sooner than a month bc it's another favorite chapter of mine so i will be diligently working on it. (actually, the next chapter is the final chapter and the 'ninth' chapter is actually the epilogue. lololol.)  
> as always, thanks for reading.


	8. Heart Rhapsody (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you can see here, i lied.  
> october was not it for me you guys. not it at all.

* * *

**Memory Lane**

_by: Miss. Breakable Butterfly_

**Heart Rhapsody (Part Two)**

* * *

After Yuri left, a renewed vigor took over Victor. He could still feel Yuri’s lips against his own, he could still feel him close, as if he were still there with him. He felt lighter and much happier than he had in months. Suddenly, what he wanted to convey through his skating was coming to him easily.

Yakov, who had been watching Victor skate, didn’t understand why his most promising student had felt so insecure about his program. Looking at him skating it now, it just seemed like another great program done by him. It reminded him of long ago, back when Victor was still young, skating his heart out and not really thinking about anything else. It reminded Yakov of the person Victor was before his mother left this world, back when all Victor wanted was to be the greatest.

“So,” Victor starts, trying to catch his breath, “What-do you-do you think?”

“It’s good,” Yakov answered honestly, “I don’t understand what it was you were worried about. Though I think you should go for a quad toe rather than a triple in your first combination.” He went on to give pointers in him other pointers in his choreography and Victor listened attentively. When the older man was done he let Victor think.

The skater thought about it for a few minutes before nodding in agreement. He felt like his heart wanted to leave the inside of his ribcage with how fast it was pumping. He’d been feeling the adrenaline since Yura had left. He asked Yakov to watch as he redid the entire thing over again. His coach only nodded and waited for the music to begin playing again.

Victor closed his eyes and took in a deep breath just as the first notes of the music began to play. In his mind's eye he saw Yuri, saw him like he’d seen him long ago, long before this accident took place and long before Victor left for Japan. It’s a memory that he always goes back to, that one time when everything had seemed perfect. Yuri’s smiling in his memory, looking up at him with clear, happy green eyes, though he’s arguing about pastries.

He opens his eyes and begins sliding across the ice with an ease that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Even skating had become a chore lately, something he did because he knew he had to, not because he wanted to. He’d lost his motivation, his incentive, the ice had become a type of prison that he didn’t want to be in. Maybe that’s why he had felt the need to leave Russia and train Yuuri. Though Yuri had been his main reason for leaving, he couldn’t help but admit to himself that skating just wasn’t the same anymore. And it hadn’t been the same for a long time. But right then, right then he felt his love for this sport flourishing again, and he knew that this had to be perfect. The hope that he had thought dead was alive, he had to let the world know that.

When the music ended again, he felt it, felt how confident in its perfection and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Better,” Yakov said, though what he really wanted to say was _amazing._ But he couldn’t let it get to Victor’s head. “You should take a break now. The seasons about to begin and you still have to think about how you plan on coaching and competing with Katsuki at the same time.” He shook his head, “You’re the only person I know that would willingly walk into a situation like this.”

Victor felt a slight damping in his mood at the mention of his student, “I’ll work it out,” He began, “You’ll see.” He had been thinking about it, contrary to what anyone would believe. He’d been thinking about enlisting the help of one of his rink mates that had been Yakov’s old student who had retired a few years ago. After all, he was well aware that his competitive nature always made him want to crush his competition. And Yuuri was competition. Real competition now.

“If you’re sure,” Yakov said, not at all convinced but let it go. In the end, no matter what happened he’d still be there to help them both out if it came down to that. “Anyway, get out.” He said looking at his watch, “The beginners class starts in ten minutes and I don’t want you to distract them.”

Victor made a show of leaving just to make Yakov’s life more complicated but when he left to change in the lockers, he felt great. Not only that, but he was looking forward to Yuri texting him he had made it home safely. But when he checked his phone, to his great disappointment, there wasn’t any message from Yuri. Instead, there was a message from Chris, a message from his father, and a few social media alerts. He sighed, wondering if maybe he should just text him first.

 _No, he still needs time,_ he told himself, trying not to become imposing. Yuri might not want to hear from him right now, _He probably doesn’t know what to think. If it’s overwhelming for me, I can only imagine what it’s like for him._

He felt a little guilty about it but he tried pushing it down. If Yuri wanted to treat this as something that he wanted to sweep under the rug, Victor would have to accept it. He wanted to be by his side, it didn’t have to be in a romantic sense. No. He just wanted to be a part of his life. He had kissed him because he’d seen longing Yuri’s eyes. Longing and affection that Victor had missed terribly. He’d been weak to it but when Yuri responded with the same ferocity, he knew that no matter what, it hadn’t been a mistake.

He picked up the rest of his belongings and walked out of the sports center.

He checked his phone one last time. He had to be patient and, contrary to how it had been the first time, he had to be honest about his emotions and decisions. He had to demonstrate to Yuri that he was prepared to give him his heart if he asked for it and be prepared to step back if he asked for _that._ In the end, no matter how much or how little Yuri remembered Victor would not fail him again.

* * *

_It had been a week since that day, the day Yuri thought he’d made the greatest mistake of his life. He’d told Victor he loved him and well, he felt miserable since then. He’d seen how Victor had reacted to his badly timed confession. The look on his face had been more of a rejection than Yuri ever wanted. So it wasn’t entirely surprising that two days after his confession, Yuri tried avoiding the rink. He didn’t pick up any of Yakov’s calls and he even went as far as going to a ‘family’ dinner to avoid it._

_But when he finally returned, Yakov was angrier than he had any business being. As he was getting chewed out he scanned the rink for the tell tale sing of Victor’s hair. He still wasn’t ready to face him, the rejection still so fresh in his memory._

_“Victor and you are going to lead me to an early grave,” Yakov was nagging, “First he leaves to coach in Japan and then you disappear for days!” He was shaking his head, looking as though he was seconds away from blowing up. He continued on but Yuri had stopped paying attention after that._

_“What?” He cut._

_Yakov stopped and he gave Yuri a leveled stare and plainly said, “He left.”_

_“What—what do you mean he left?” Yuri could barely control his voice, trying to keep the tremble out of it. He felt that sharp sting in his heart again, the same one he felt when his mom and her perfect family that he wasn’t a part of._

_Yakov clicked his tongue as if having to explain this was his beyond him._

_“Vitya decided to go to Japan to train some guy,” Mila answered when Yakov still wouldn't answer Yuri’s question. “The one who was suuuuper interested in Victor at the gala.”_

_She raised her eyebrows as if she knew a secret Yuri didn’t and the insinuation made Yuri feel nauseated._

_“Maybe Victor finally found the love of his life,” Georgie added, not helping Yuri at all. Yuri blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to keep his facial muscles under complete control._

_“That fucking bastard!” He exclaimed though all he really wanted to do was curl up and cry._

_“You don’t have to be jealous,” Mila said, joking, though she didn’t know how right and wrong she was._

_“I’m_ not _,” He stressed with ferocity. Mila only looked at him waiting for him to explain himself, “He promised me a program for my senior debut! He has to do it!” As he said this he dug around his bag for his phone. ready to call the bastard and let him have it. But Victor didn’t pick up. Not even the third time Yuri dialed._

_“Enough!” Yakov finally said taking Yuri’s phone from his hand. “Victor isn’t coming back and it’s clear he doesn’t want anyone to call him so—“_

_“—But he promised me,” Yuri argued, and his voice cracked at the end. The pain of being left behind seemed to flood his entire body and he felt like a child again, screaming and crying to his mother to not leave him behind. And at her memory, he clamped down on his emotions and bit down the sob that wanted to escape him. He cleared his throat and clenched his fist and spit out, “—but fine. Whatever.”_

_The mask that he had worn all his life fell neatly into place, the one he used all too often to keep people from seeing what was really going on inside him. The mask of the rebellious, indifferent teenager that everyone fell for._

_“Good,” Yakov began with a bit of relief in his voice, “Start warming up.”_

_Yakov had hoped Victor would come back if Yuri was the one asking. He, more than anyone else, knew they were close, and that Victor tended to indulge the younger boy. It bothered Yakov that Victor had left without giving anyone notice or at least talking it over with him. But Yakov trusted his students and maybe this was something good for Victor. Maybe this would help him get out of whatever slump he’d gotten into and maybe Victor just needed time to find himself. And who knew, maybe stepping away from this environment was what he needed._

_Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to speak to Yuri either, maybe he was tired of having him following after him. But Yuri was unpredictable when he felt that he was being sidelined, so his reaction to it all gave Yakov some reassurance that he wouldn’t do something stupid like follow after him._

_“Tomorrow we’ll begin looking for a choreographer and music,” He told Yuri, hoping that would alleviate his ire._

_Yuri nodded reluctantly._

_But what Yakov didn’t know, was that after that grueling practice that day, Yuri had made a decision. He would find Victor and force him to keep his word. Victor had promised him a program and Yuri would get it and he’d make sure Victor regretted the day he left him behind._

_So that night, he booked a flight to Japan for the following week, making sure to give Yakov time to lower his guard before taking off._

_Leaning against the backrest of his couch, he looked at a picture Victor and he had taken together months ago. Everything had seemed so perfect then and Yuri had ruined by doing something stupid like confessing. With a heavy heart, Yuri wiped away the tears that had managed to escape his eyes. He erased all the unassuming pictures they had taken together in their time_ together _and tried to bury all the things he felt in the deepest, darkest places of his heart. Yuri knew what it was like to fight a losing battle with someone who didn’t want to be kept. He had enough experience with his mother to know that a person wouldn’t stay just because you wanted them to. Yuri wasn’t following Victor because he wanted him back, no, what he wanted was the fulfillment of the promise Victor had made him. He was going to get his program._

_And maybe he would get hurt in the process but Yuri was used to getting hurt, what was one more crack in his heart? Victor couldn’t hurt him more than he already had. Right?_

_Two weeks after Japan, Yuri wasn’t so sure anymore._

* * *

After their long conversation, Yuri and Yuuri both fell asleep on the couch until the cold air coming in through the windows woke them up.

“We should close the windows,” Yuri mumbled sleepily. He didn’t want to get up from his comfortable spot, but the cold really was seeping into his bones. Yuuri sneezed and Yuri decided that yes, they had to get up and maybe go lay down in the real bed, “I forgot how cold it gets this time of year.”

He got up and Yuuri sniffed, also feeling a little lazy after the groggy nap they had woken up from.

“Come on Katsudon,” Yuri began, “Let’s close the windows, and then we can eat something for dinner.” He made his way to his bedroom, glad that he couldn’t smell dust anymore. He pulled the old sheets off his bed and looked in the closet for clean ones. He hadn’t originally come here with the intention of staying here but after the day he’s had he didn’t feel like going anywhere that wasn’t less than a few meters away. When he made his way back out of the bedroom, he found Yuuri looking at the few pictures he had on a table by the hallway. There was one of his grandfather and her, another of his grandmother and mother when she had been younger, and there was one of his grandfather, his mother, and he when Yuri had been a baby. The last picture was of Victor and he, in front of the huge Christmas tree in New York. It was the most recent picture and in it, Yuri was smiling hugely as Victor looked down at him also smiling.

“You should smile more often,” Yuuri said, emotions Yuri couldn’t quite name flashing behind his eyes, “You have a nice smile.” He turned away from the pictures and looked at Yuri standing there, waiting for him, “You’re ready.”

Yuri wanted to say something to lighten up the heavy atmosphere that had befallen them, but he had no idea what to say, instead, he just nodded y told him about the restaurant that was a few streets away.

“They have the best Borch in Saints Petersburg,” He said, “Though their Shchi and Ukha is good too.” Just thinking about the food made his mouth water, and remembering little things like these made him feel like maybe everything would turn out okay in the end.

Yuuri asked a few more questions about the place as they made their way down the street and Yuri was glad to have the tense air dispel between them. When they were seated at the restaurant they spoke about Yuuri’s practices, the upcoming season, they spoke about Yuri’s rehab progress and Yuri told him about how he was anxious to get back on the ice.

Dinner was great and after, they returned to Yuri’s apartment in light spirits. Before going to bed, they drank some more tea, watched the evening news, and finished setting up Yuri’s apartment so they could sleep comfortably. It was warm inside, and Yuuri thought about how nice the place was, he wondered idly if maybe there was an available apartment anywhere in the building. He’d been living in a small studio since arriving here but it was a distance away from the rink and though he usually didn’t mind the commute finding a place closer would be great. On top of that, he’d be closer to Yuri and—

Yuri threw his head back and laughed at something the announcer on the TV was saying and Yuuri’s heart lurched.

The younger boy seemed so unguarded at that moment, truly comfortable in his space and not putting up any airs. He seemed to be actually enjoying what he was watching and since Russian was still a little difficult for Yuuri, Yuuri watched him. When Yuri noticed him he tried to explain what was so funny but the joke was lost in translation but Yuuri laughed with him anyway.

Yuri was kind and considerate when one managed to see past the front of arrogance he put up they could see just how fragile and sensitive his heart truly was. Yuuri felt a longing that he was familiar with in his chest. Despite his age, Yuuri’s experience with love was limited, maybe that’s why Eros had been hard to interpret. Yuuri hadn’t had a sexual experience yet, though there had been plenty of opportunities, Pitchit had made sure of it back when they were roommates, but Yuuri’s idea of romance did not align with one night stands and passing trysts. In college, he’d focused on studying and his skating, and every time Pitchit would drag him out to a party, Yuuri would always leave early. There had been a time when he’d been in love with Yuuko; he’d loved her since the first time she’s held his hand and had helped him glide across the ice. He’d loved her when she told him she was pregnant and though he’d never held it against her, he knew he had to leave her. Studying abroad had been the perfect way to escape her sphere. Since then, Yuuri had longed for someone to love like he’s loved her, and now, that love was spit in two. Except this time, he didn’t think himself capable of distancing himself from the two people he had grown to love.

He feels Yuri’s head fall on his shoulder and this makes him snap out of his miserable thoughts. Yuri seemed to be halfway to sleep and Yuuri resisted the urge to run his hand through his blond hair. He tried shifting on the couch so Yuri would be more comfortable but the movement shook him awake and Yuri looked around blearily.

“I think we should go to bed,” He murmured and Yuuri nodded.

But the words didn’t really register until Yuri was standing up and looking down at him expectantly.

“Umm,” Yuuri began, nervously.

“Let’s go,” He said, “This sofa is way too small for you to fall asleep. And it’s too cold for you to sleep on the floor.”

Yuuri didn’t think it would be wise to argue with the Ice Tiger of Russia when he looked ready to fall asleep on his feet to he just nodded and followed after him. When they were settled on the bed, Yuuri tried to stay as close to edge as possible but Yuri grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Thanks, Yuuri,” He mumbled as his eyes closed, and sleep overtook him.

Yuuri, unable to deny himself this, scooted closer and watch him closely as he slept. He could barely make out his features in the dark but it was enough to have his heart doing somersaults in his chest. In the dark, his strength waned and he allowed himself a moment of weakness. Carefully, with all the tenderness he could muster, he pressed his lips to Yuri’s forehead. He allowed himself to stay close to him for just a few seconds. He would never let himself be this unguarded again.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and Katsuki Yuuri would return to being ignorant of his feelings. One day, one day he would find someone to love as he’d love Yuuko. One day he would love someone enough that his eyes would light up in happiness just as Yuri’s lit up when he spoke about Victor.

* * *

_“What the_ fuck _was that?!” Chris's voice rang out in the rink, freezing Victor’s blood in his veins as looked up to meet his eyes._

_He was well and thoroughly fucked._

_He stood up slowly and looked at his friend looked at him as though he was a complete stranger. As if he didn’t know this impostor that had taken over his body and maybe Chris wasn’t wrong._

_“Chris…” He began and Chris shook his head._

_“What were you doing Victor?” He asked, his voice severe, and then he added as if Victor didn’t know, “He’s a_ kid _.”_

_Victor felt his shoulders drop and he looked away. Chris opened his mouth to say something else but before he could Victor cut, “Not here.”_

_His heart was beating loudly in his chest and the fear that had gripped him when he’s first kissed Yuri came back with a vengeance._

_Chris only nodded but sharply turned away and left without another word. Victor followed him and as they left the rink neither spoke. Chris didn’t even explain what he was doing there and when he pulled open the door of the passenger side of Victor’s car he didn’t even look at him. The ride back was silent, the atmosphere heavy and tense. He drove them straight to his apartment._

_Once inside, Victor slipped off his shoes and made his way to his bar cart, and poured himself some whisky. If he thought his home would provide him some sense of security he was falsely mistaken._

_“Do you want anything?” He asked and Chris nodded, probably knowing that he would really need it._

_Victor served his drink and they sat on the couches. The silver-haired man noticed the shirt that was hung over one of the armrests and picked up. It was one of Yuri’s shirts, he could tell because Victor wouldn’t be caught dead with something this gaudy. He set it carefully aside._

_“Since when?” Chris asks, finally, as he downed his drink in one go._

_Victor took a steadying breath and answered, “A few months.”_

_He can’t meet his friend's eyes and he focuses his gaze on his glass. He felt too exposed and too vulnerable to try and see his judgment. When he’d begun his relationship with Yuri he knew it wouldn’t be easy, but as he got closer and closer to Yuri the consequences began to lose their importance. Yuri was like the sun, bright and resplendent. When he was with him, everything faded into the background because_ he _took center stage. Victor had done what he could to keep it secret and it had worked for such a long time that he’d lowered his guard and it had led to this._

_Chris observed his friend, he looked as though he was carrying the entire world on his shoulders and he refused to meet his eyes. He’d never seen Victor like this. Long gone was the man that Chris and every other person on the planet saw a confident and sure of himself without any worries in the world._

_“Is he the reason you broke up with Irina?” He asked, unable to stand the silence. Victor finally looked up at him and he gave him a self-deprecating smile._

_“Yes. But Irina and I…we had already lost the connection. We stayed together because it was easy but even if Yuri and I never—“ He stops, clears his throat and continues, “—Irina and I—there was no future. We would have gone our different ways regardless.” He finished but even he didn’t sound too convinced of that. The truth was, if Yuri and he had never come together, Victor would have finally ceded and proposed to her. Irina and he had been together long enough for both his father and her parents to inquire about weddings and children. He was sure that if life had gone on for him as usual, he would have married her though he didn’t think he would be happy. Irina loved him, but Victor’s love for her had always been stale. He hadn't loved her enough, not like he now knew was possible. He had loved her at a distance, never really allowing himself to be unguarded around her but he_ had _loved her. Which is why he had broken up with her, she deserved so much better than having to beg for Victor’s scraps of affections. His heart had been unable to really love since his mother’s death…that is until Yuri._

_Chris didn’t seem satisfied with the answer but he didn’t push for more. He had known that Victor and Irina’s relationship wasn’t as perfect as they had made it seem. He had always got the feeling that they were pretending and that their love wasn’t something real._

_“So then…” Chris begins slowly, “Do you love him?” The question was finally out there. The most important thing he wanted to know. Chris would never forgive Victor if this—whatever this was—was a passing entertainment for him. He didn’t think he could forgive his friend if he was taking advantage of this_ kid. _No, that was something he would_ never _forgive._

_“I—“ Victor begins, his voice shakes, and he snaps his mouth closed. Victor was still unsure of the intense feelings Yura provoked in him. He knew he was attracted to him, an attraction that sometimes made him crave Yuri unlike he’d ever desired a person before. There was something inside him that wanted to protect him, a warmth that wanted to see him smiling, and contentment that settled in his chest when he was with him. He felt so many things about Yuri but…_

_The door of the apartment swings open and Makkachin lets out an excited bark as he rushes to the door._

_“Ugh, Makkachin stop!” He hears Yuri exclaims, “At least let me get inside,” He hears him say with a laugh and his voice makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He looks at Chris and his friend is looking in the direction of the entrance with surprise. He slowly turns to look at Victor and he stares. Victor purses his lips, Yuri has had a copy of his apartment key for a while now, he can’t stop what’s going to happen._

_“Sorry I left so suddenly, I’d forgotten my grandfather was coming to visit but he brought me Vatrushka and—“ When Yuri turns into the living room his eyes instantly land on Chris. His cheeks, already pink from the cold, darken to deep red. He looked from one to the other and when he meets Victor’s gaze he seems to understand everything. Victor looks away from him—and this makes disappointment settle in his chest. Chris looks at him seriously, a stark difference from his usual attitude. Yuri maybe fifteen but he’s not stupid._

_“So you know,” He says, and it’s not a question._

_He set the bag he had in his hands on the kitchen table as he unraveled the scarf that he had wrapped around his neck. Then, without giving anyone in the room a chance to say anything he took a seat beside Victor. And though he looked unaffected by the sudden turn of events, Victor knew him well enough to know that his kitten was scared. Unconsciously, he grabbed his small hand, wrapping it completely with his own, hoping that would comfort him. It made him a little guilty, seeing how this insignificant action seemed to surprise not only Chris but Yuri as well. Yuri gives him a slight upturn of his lips but when he turns back to look at Chris his face has fallen back to that expressionless mask he used when he tried to pretend that what was happening wasn’t his concern. He asked, with a leveled, flat voice, “Are you going to tell anyone?”_

_The question resounded in Victor’s apartment like thunder in the night. Victor turned his gaze to his friend and waited, with a knot in his throat, his response. The response that would probably ruin him and only him, because of one thing he was definitely sure, Yuri would make it out of this unscathed._

_Chris continued to look at them silently, his gaze scrutinizing their every move. There was no denying that he didn’t feel at all comfortable about the situation, but he also couldn’t deny that for the first time since knowing him, Victor had been looking like a real person in the past few months. He’d noticed how they had been gravitating towards each other and he’d thought it was something born out of admiration, now that he knew the truth he though over the interactions he had witnessed in the past year, and thinking about it now, it just makes him wonder if he’d been blind. Or maybe he’d known all along and chose to ignore it._

_Yuri’s eyes are full of fear, but under that Chris can see he’s ready to defend, ready to plead their case, ready to fight back tooth and nail as if the_ he _were the one that needed to protect Victor and not the other way around._

_“No,” Chris finally says, measuring his words, “I won’t mention it to anyone.” It’s fascinating to see both of them filled with relief and release a sigh as if they’d averted a bullet. "But I hope you know what you’re doing.” He continues but the statement is directed specifically at Victor. Because he’s the one all the responsibility falls on._

_Victor only nods, his face still not relaxing completely._

_“I’ll…” Yuri begins, standing up and unlacing his fingers from Victor’s hold, “…make some tea or something…” He says, as he leaves the two adults alone and runs away to gather his bearings somewhere where they can’t see him. Makkachin is the only one that follows him._

_A tense silence falls on Victor and Chris again and they both remain silent, contemplating everything that had just happened. Chris sipped his drink until the glass was empty and then stood up. Victor mirrored him and the swiss man only shook his head, “I should probably go.”_

_“Do you have anywhere to stay the night?” Victor asks because in between everything he’d forgotten that Chris probably expected to be hosted at his apartment._

_“Yes,” He says, and then he looks as Victor’s shoulders slump and he feels conflicted again. “I’m just…having a hard time wrapping my head around this…” He finally confesses, in an attempt to both comfort him and reassure him their friendship is not ruined because of this, “…but for I’ll keep quiet and I hope one day I can…support you and not…regret this.”_

_Victor can’t say anything to that except reluctantly accept it, he knew that just by having Chris keep this secret was asking for a lot. So he murmurs, “Thanks.”_

_His friend gives him a tentative smile as he turns and walks to the door. He grabs his things, slipping on his coat and shoes and before he walks out he gives Victor a quick hug but just as he’s about to pull the door open he turns to him again and begins, “There’s something you didn’t answer me.” His voice is quiet, trying to keep Yuri from overhearing, “Do you love him?”_

_For a moment, Victor doesn’t know what to answer but finally, he settles on the truth. “I…don't know yet.” Because despite every feeling Yuri has awakened in him, he doesn’t know if he should call it love._

_He almost expected Chris to look at him in disgust, and Victor wouldn’t have blamed him, but instead, his friend sighed sadly._

_“I hope you figure it soon. Because if you intend to…continue with this thing will not be easy.” Chris said, his heart heavy for both of them. This has not been the first time Victor’s indecision has caused him pain and if he was unable to see it, in the end, all he would do is hurt Yuri. He hoped of course, that things would turn out well, but Yuri was inexperienced and once doubt latched on to Victor’s head there was nothing anyone could do to make him see how unreasonable he was being. He wanted them—if this was something real—to be happy but all he could do was wait and be patient and hope that he wouldn’t be left picking up the shards of Victor’s broken heart. He didn’t even want to imagine what it would do to Yuri…_

_He shakes his head and finally says his goodbyes._

_“So…” Yuri says from somewhere behind Victor, “He left?” He turns and his little lover is standing in the hallway looking at him. Victor nodded and Yuri comes closer, wrapping his arms around him, and says into his chest, “He’s a good friend.”_

_Victor wants to let out a laugh but he can’t manage it. He kisses Yuri’s forehead, wondering what he did to have such a friend. He looks down at Yuri and he wonders what it must seem like to him. Yuri never could keep friends and he was always pushing people away unless they forced him to tolerate their presence._

_He pulls him closer, burying his face in his hair, and breathing in deeply. Everything that had happened today opened up his eyes to the inevitable conclusion that this could not go on further. Yuri didn’t deserve this and had to be let go…the only problem that remained was how to do it._

* * *

When morning came, Yuri woke up to the bright light of the sun. He squinted his eyes and turned, his leg cramped at the sudden movement and he gritted his teeth, letting out a curse. It took him a few seconds to focus and that’s when he remembered that he wasn’t at his grandfather’s house but instead his own apartment. He relaxed into the bed again and felt like he was forgetting something but he didn’t quite remember what it was.

He bit his lip, trying to recall the events of yesterday, from the feel of Victor’s lips on his own to him asking to text him when he got home to leaving with Yuuri and talking to him for hours…

“Yuuri!” He exclaimed, sitting up, suddenly remembering that the Japanese man had spent the night. But when he looked around he found himself alone and before he could launch himself into a frantic search he recalled that today Yuuri had ballet classes in the morning. He let out a sigh of relief, deflating his tense muscles. Yuuri had been put into contact with a woman that spoke Japanese, thanks to Minako, but the studio he went to was almost on the other side of the city and he confided in Yuri that even though it was far, he enjoyed going because he didn’t feel like he was lagging behind because of the language barrier. Yuuri didn’t have ice practice this afternoon which meant…Victor _also_ didn’t have practice.

He let another few minutes pass before he finally pushed himself out of bed. With hesitation, he took his phone and scrolled through his contacts. His phone had miraculously survived the accident, though a nasty crack now adorned the screen, but he’d managed to keep using it. He’d gone through it to see if there was something in there that would jog his memories, but the Yuri from before had deleted every message and picture and the only thing worth nothing was he had Victor’s number on speed dial. He’d almost started hyperventilating when he found out weeks ago, especially since that was around the same time his dreams started becoming of a more…intimate nature.

He didn’t want to call him though, he didn’t think he’d be able to disguise the trembling of his voice but more than that, he didn’t want to speak to him over the phone. No, the questions Yuri wanted to ask had to be asked in person.

Yuri sent off a text to his grandfather telling him he wasn’t going home again, he sent a thank you to Yuuri who had accompanied him through the night, and finally, with all the resolve he could muster, he texted Victor.

_Hi, it’s Yuri. Are you free today?_

As soon as he sent it he pocketed his phone and made his way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. He noted that there was a plate on the table with a note on top of it. Yuuri’s neat handwriting spelled out, _Enjoy!_ and Yuri smiled gratefully. He’d have to repay him some time for all the things he’d done for him. He took a bite of the food and checked his phone to see if he’d received an answer. He felt awful disappointment that the name that was on the screen wasn’t the one he wanted to see. But as he answered Yuuri’s text he received an incoming message and his heart catapulted to his throat when he saw that it was from Victor.

_For you? Always. Why?_

His message was short but it didn’t stop Yuri from feeling as though his face was on fire. What were those words supposed to mean? For him? Always? Could it be that maybe his dreams held more truth to them than he believed? The questions all sprout simultaneously and he has to force himself to stop.

_Can you meet me? I wanted to talk to you._

_Of course,_ was Victor’s immediate reply, _Where and when?_

Where would the best place to meet and talk about his dreams be? Yuri looked around his apartment and the answer seemed obvious.

_My apartment. At 2. Do you know where it is? Or do you need me to send you the address?_

Again the answer came instantly, and it only made him feel all the more anxious, _I know where it is. I’ll see you in a few hours, kitten._

He stared at the message for what felt like hours, trying to decipher it’s meaning as if it was a coded message. Eventually, he set his phone down and looked around his apartment again. Quickly, he realized that shouldn’t be sitting around doing nothing, his apartment was still dirty and he couldn’t receive Victor with it looking like this. He looked at the clock and noticed it was ten, good, that gave him enough time to clean and make this place more presentable.

He paused, frowning, it’s not as if he wanted to impress him. Having Victor at his home wasn’t a date, or well, it was but not _that_ type of date. He didn’t have to make this place presentable at all but it still didn’t feel right receiving him in this pigsty. Okay, so maybe he did want to be presentable, he was the man that made Yuri feel as though his heart would jump out of his chest.

“This being in love thing is bullshit,” He says to no one and he has to keep himself from laughing. Because yeah, Yuri was in love with a man twelve years older than him who would possibly reject him because of their age difference. But it didn’t matter to him, he was going to tell Victor his feelings, it was better to jump into the abyss rather than keep living this uncertain life. Back then, before the accident, and even now Yuri has always been the type of person to not back down from chasing after what he wants, it was who he was. Nothing could ever change that. Not even the possibility of heartbreak.

* * *

_When Yuri arrives in Japan, Victor cannot keep himself from hoping. It would be a lie to say he hadn't wanted to see him since arriving at Hasetsu. Every morning he would wake up feeling empty without him by his side and having Yuuri there didn’t help. Every time he heard the name he remembered his Yuri and that only made him miss him more._

_So when Yuri showed up at the rink, Victor had almost lost all decorum and hugged him. They hadn’t been apart long but to Victor, it felt infinite but he had to stop himself. He pretended to be surprised—he was, in a way because he hadn’t expected him to show up here—but he maintained his distance. He ignored his presence as best he could and acted as though Yuri was just a child having a fit. He knew it would anger Yuri that he was patronizing him but it was the only thing he could think to do._

_What he did instead was pay extra attention to Yuuri. And to add distance, started calling him by the name Katsuki Yuuri had dubbed him,_ Yurio _just to add insult to the wound. He could tell it made him furious. But he’d made his decision, there was no turning back anymore._

_“OLD MAN!” Yuri shouts as Victor drinks sake. “You have to go back to Russia with me!” Having him around was tearing him apart, he didn’t think he could continue on with this charade for long. There were cracks in his armor and he knew himself enough to know that if given the slight chance he would kiss him, he probably wouldn’t even care who saw. Yet right now all he could do was give him a disinterested look._

_Yuri was angry, of course he was, he looked at Victor with a frown and his eyes did not hide his fury at all. Victor felt that familiar longing pool in his stomach, Yuri was beautiful, always had been, he was like a fire that burned brightly and he was the moth that inevitably died with it._

_“But why?” He tries to make his voice sound airy and light, and he brings turns his attention to his new student to keep from having to look at Yuri anymore, “Yuuri is_ such _a good host. Don’t you think?”_

_He gives the Japanese man a wink and sipping his drink again. Yuri looks taken aback for a moment and a strange emotion flashes in behind his eyes. It had been so quick that Victor hadn’t been able to place a name to it._

_“You like him…” Yuri says in Russian, his voice a whisper, but then he squares his shoulders and continues on with his tirade. “Fine! I’ll show you that I’m better than him! And you have to be_ my _coach!”_

 _Yuri’s voice is clear and his eyes don’t waver but his heart—God, his heart feels like it's being torn to pieces. The realization that Victor had played him—had taken advantage like Yuri thought he_ never _would—settles into him and he can’t—he can’t let them see it. To make it even worse, Victor had already found his next conquest right under Yuri’s nose. He bites down on his cheek until he draws blood until the pain in his heart settles. Until it fades to nothing._

_Onsen on Ice is a go._

_The change isn’t noticeable from the outside, but Victor knows that now things are different. Yurio doesn’t even flinch when he sees Victor excessively flirting with Yuuri. He looked at their interactions with detachment as if he didn’t care what they were doing. Yurio didn’t care about anything but skating, he did what he was asked of him and only got rilled up when he felt that Victor wasn’t paying enough attention to his training. When Victor sends them off to train at the waterfall and they come back. Yurio is more thoughtful, more concerned about his interpretation of his program and he seemed to reach some understanding with Yuuri. This last bit makes him irritated, unjustly so, because he didn’t like the way Yuuri had managed to tame him. This was the one thing he_ didn’t _want. He didn’t want Yurio to find comfort in Yuuri—not_ him. _Never him. Not this man who he intended to separate him from. Yurio didn’t chase him down and demand things from him anymore, instead, he became an impenetrable fortress. It pained Victor to see it. To see that Yurio now felt the need to put walls up from him, but this was for the best, wasn’t it?_

_He had to believe that. Had to believe that giving him up was the right thing to do._

_And then there was Yuuri, who tried to do everything right and was caught in the middle of a storm without knowing it. Yuuri who had been chosen as Victor’s sacrifice to separate both of them from Yurio._

_Maybe in another life, they would have worked out—but in this one—in this one, Victor only wanted one person. Only self-destructed for one being. In the end, what happened to him didn’t matter, his pain and his longing didn’t matter, what mattered was Yuri’s complete and utter happiness. The one he would find in away from this earthly sinner._

_So he takes the results of Onsen on Ice as a sign. That he had made the right choice and that this meant fate had different paths for them. He was glad, in a way, because he wouldn't have been able to maintain his distance in Russia if he saw him every day. He knows that ultimately he would have fallen back right into the arms of his beloved kitten, And that was something that he couldn’t let happen. Even if Victor’s actions were cruel and egoistic, and though he’d hurt Yurio, at the end of the day, Yurio would understand that being away from someone like Victor was a blessing._

_Or at least, Victor wished he would understand. After all, what could he offer him? Their relationship had been doomed from the start and it was Victor’s responsibility to cut it off before the pain became something that could never heal._

* * *

When Yuri was satisfied with the state of his apartment, he went to the supermarket to buy groceries. And on his way back home, he slipped quickly into a store to buy clothes.He didn’t want to greet Victor in the same clothes as yesterday and the clothes in his apartment probably didn’t fit anymore or look like anything he wanted to wear. After coming home, he quickly tied an apron around him and got to cooking something.

Yuri liked to cook, he’d learn this one day when he was bored at his grandfather’s house and he decided to try to help with dinner. He was good with a knife and it made him remember that this was something the Yuri from before also enjoyed. It was relaxing but more than that, it made him feel useful. He didn’t like sitting around doing nothing and this gave him some semblance of independence and it also gave him something to do. His accident had put a limit on the things he could do, but this—this was something he could do without help.

He focused on what he was doing to keep himself from staring at the clock and hoping the time would go by faster. Still, he couldn’t help but check the time on his phone every so often until it got to be one-fifty. Once that happened, he felt his heart begin to race in nervousness. But he tried to keep himself calm, as the minutes passed the nervousness turned to anxiety and as two o’clock turned to two-ten the anxiety turned to mild disappointment. Maybe Victor wouldn’t make it? It wasn’t too late but the thought still surfaced in his mind, after all, he was probably a busy man.

He kept checking his phone to see if maybe Victor had sent him a message excusing himself but all he saw were social media notifications. It made him think about his fans for a moment. On Instagram, they were always tagging him with supportive comments but he felt a little weirded out by it all. Mostly because they were unknown people worrying about the things he had lost and remembered a person Yuri didn’t. It was strange sometimes, watching the world mourn you despite being alive.

He sighed deeply, trying to not think about that now. Instead, he checked the time again and saw that it was nearing two-thirty, again he felt disappointment spike. He can’t believe the man would stand him up…not after Yuri had gone to great lengths trying to cook for him. He’d even gone as far as making vatrushka’s because he thought it would be something Victor would really like. They were in the oven currently and he’d worked really hard on getting them perfect—

* * *

_The cold was slipping right through his coat and he hurried along the street. It was a thin coat, not enough to shield him from the unforgiving Russian winter, but he’d been in a rush this morning and because the sun was shinning he had thought it wouldn’t get this cold. He should have remembered the weather was always unpredictable._

_Today was supposed to be an off day for him, but instead of taking it easy like he usually did when he didn’t have training, he’d spent the day helping his grandfather at the small bakery he owned until four, and then he’d taken the train to St. Petersburg, it was late now, close to nine._

_His phone rang in his pocket, and with a smile and a burst of butterflies in his stomach, he pulled it out knowing it was exactly the person he wanted to talk to the most right now._

_“Hello,” He answered, and his teeth chattered from the cold and he had to clench his jaw to control it. Yet warmth began to spread through him when he remembered that it had been thirteen days since he began his relationship with Victor. Yuri still woke up thinking that it was all a dream but the calls and the good morning text messages from Victor reminded him that it wasn’t. It was real._

_“Kitten!” Victor whines from the other end and Yuri can perfectly picture the pout his lips are set in, “Where are you? We were supposed to meet thirty minutes ago.”_

_Yuri wanted to roll his eyes. Despite his distracted nature and sometimes childish attitude, Victor always had to be strictly punctual. It made Yuri wonder why a person so concerned with time could forget to throw out the bad milk he had in the fridge._

_“Sorry,” He says and then explains, “I had to finish helping deduska and I took a later train.”_

_Victor hums and then asked hesitantly, “So…are you coming already?”_

_It was already dark, and Yuri knew how much Victor didn’t like it when he was out by himself in the busy Saint Petersburg streets at night._

_“Yeah,” Yuri answered, pulling his coat tighter around himself, “I’m almost there, actually. I’ll see you soon.”_

_“Okay,” Victor said._

_With that, Yuri hung up, picking up his pace as Victor’s apartment complex came into view. He walked in, grateful for the warmth the lobby provided and greeted Filipp. The receptionist just nodded to him in greeting, long used to Yuri being Victor’s constant guest._

_When he finally arrived at Victor’s apartment, the man had the door pulled open, his coat pulled over his shoulders, and his car keys in hand._

_“You’re going out?” Yuri asked raising his eyebrows as he came closer._

_“I was actually thinking of going to meet you.” Victor said, “When you said soon I thought maybe you were still at the station. And it’s pretty cold out.” He looks at Yuri’s shivering form, “Why didn’t you chose a better coat?”_

_Yuri shrugged not bothering to answer as he pushed Victor aside and went inside. Victor seemed exasperated with him as he took off his coat and shoes._

_“I brought bread,” Yuri told him as he set the bag on the table and then rubbed his hands together to try to get them warm._

_Victor only shook his head at him in disapproval and went to take the bag. He went to the kitchen to make tea for them both. Yuri used this time to find himself a throw blanket to wrap around himself and then Makkachin came to cuddle with him on the couch. Victor only shook his head at them when he saw them, handing Yuri his tea just the way he liked it. With milk and honey._

_Yuri smiled at him as he took the mug, the warmth of it soothing his cold fingers._

_Victor took a seat on his other side and Yuri leaned against him as he took a sip of the tea. He made a little noise on the back of his throat and Victor opened the bag of bread that Yuri had brought. He took out one of the wrapped pastries, his mouth watering at the familiar smell._

_When he unwrapped them, he stared at the pastry for longer than he thought. It was a nicely made Vatrushka and he had to forcefully clear his throat._

_“What?” Yuri asked, noticing his hesitation, “Do you not like them?”_

_Victor looked at him, and shook his head, “Actually…I love these. They’re my favorite. My mother used to make them, it was the only thing she could actually bake.” He says with a smile, remembering times long gone. Yuri observed him quietly, because Victor didn’t mention his family often, and the topic of his mother was one that had never been breached. He knew, of course, that she had passed away a long time ago but he didn’t know any specifics. Victor had done all he could to keep that information private from the media and all those who wanted to stick their noses into business that wasn’t their own._

_“I made them,” He confesses because he had no words of comfort to give. When Victor turns his blue eyes to him, Yuri can’t help the way his cheeks flush at the way he looks at him. First in a bit of surprise and then with a soft, fond smile on his face. Again, Yuri felt the butterflies in his stomach, though he was beginning to think they weren’t butterflies and instead a nest of agitated bees._

_“Oh,” Victor says as he takes a bite out of the pastry and chews. “It’s delicious.” He doesn’t waste time eating the rest of it and Yuri can only watch him but then he reaches for the other pastry in the bag._

_“That one is mine!” He exclaims as he tries to grab it from his hand._

_But Victor pulls it out of his reach, “No! You made them for me, right? You can’t take them back.”_

_“I made them for both of us!”_

_Victor bites down on the pastry and Yuri smacks his arm, but he’s not feeling too upset about it and he laughs at Victor’s antics._

_“You have jelly on you,” He says pointing to his upper lip._

_Victor pulls Yuri to him by the back of his head and places his lips against his own, kissing him. When he pulls back he gives Yuri a wink and teasing smile, “There. Now you can’t say I didn’t share.”_

_Yuri starts to argue with him but he feels that fuzzy feeling again, and he feels content. He’s warm, Victor is here with him, and he thinks this is something he always wants to remember._

* * *

The doorbell ringing is what breaks him out of his memory and he for a moment, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing. The bell rings again. And this snaps him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. He clears his throat, trying to dispel from his chest the aching feeling of nostalgia. His phone vibrates in his hand and he doesn’t have to see who’s calling or who is at the door.

When he pulls the door open, Victor gives him a wide smile, and though it looks perfectly fine from the outside, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

This for some reason, reminds him of the kiss they shared yesterday and suddenly, looking at Victor’s lips, that’s all he could think about.

An awkward silence passes between then where neither knows what to say or do until Victor wordlessly hands him a box of gourmet chocolates. Yuri takes them as he murmurs, “Thanks.” He moves aside, avoiding his gaze, and motioning for him to come in. “You should come inside."

The smile Victor gives him is real this time, he knows because it’s the same smile he’s seen in his dreams. Yuri can smell his cologne as he passes by him, and it’s familiar to him…almost comforting. He bites his lip as he closes the door and tries to keep himself from immediately jumping into questions. _Come on,_ he tells himself, _don’t be weird._ He takes a steadying breath and finally turns around and finds Victor looking at the same pictures that Yuuri had looked at last night. Victor wasn’t really paying attention to him, so Yuri took the moment to analyze him and tried to force himself to remember something about the man that wasn’t something from his dreams. But he couldn’t.

“You should take off your coat,” He tells him, then adds belatedly, “If you want.” Who even knew how long Victor was planning on staying and that just made him feel inadequate again. He’d prepared food for him, what if he just planned on telling him sorry about yesterday and then leave?

But Victor looks up from the pictures and does as Yuri said. Yuri moves to grab it from him, and maybe he’s not paying attention, or maybe it’s just done unconsciously but Yuri finds himself closer to the older man than is necessary. He flushes, looking up at Victor, realizing just how much taller the older is, and again, his eyes fall on his lips. His lips, and the kisses, and the _dreams_. Under all of it, Yuri can’t decide what’s making his heartbeat loudly anymore. He wonders if from the short distance between them Victor can hear his heartbeat.

He forcefully clears his throat again and looks down, trying to keep the urge to kiss him at bay. Victor hands him the coat and Yuri forces himself to turn away and put it up in the coat closet for now.

“I cooked,” He tells him as he comes back to the living room, “Would you like to eat?”

“Sure,” Victor says, “Do you need me to help you with something?”

“No,” Yuri replies, “I have everything ready.”

Their meal is quiet and tense, they don’t really talk, both of them too absorbed in their own worlds and trying to find a way to approach the talk they need to have. For drawn-out minutes, the only sound in the apartment is that of their forks and knives against the plates. It begins to feel suffocating to Yuri, but he doesn't know what he should say to Victor to break the silence. Well, there’s a lot, actually, but he doesn’t know if it’s right to ask.

But finally, when his plate is empty, Victor is the first to speak, “It was delicious,” He compliments and Yuri feels immensely satisfied to hear it, “But then…it’s not really a surprise. You’ve always been a good cook.”

“Mmm,” Yuri hums, wondering again just how close Victor was to him to know that. “Thanks.”

Victor, for his part, wanted nothing more than to kiss him, fall at his feet, tell him how much he loved him, and beg for forgiveness. But before he can act out on it, Yuri says, “I have dessert too. I’ll be right back.”

Yuri stood up from the table and went to take out the pastries he had baked from the oven. They were hot, so he placed them in a platter and waited a few minutes for them to cool and also to gather strength for what he was about to do.

When Yuri set the Vatrushkas on the table, Victor looked at them curiously, wondering why Yuri had chosen that specific desert.

“These…are your favorites, right?” The blond boy hesitantly asks, gouging to see if maybe his dreams had any truth to them.

“Y-yes.” Victor says, surprised, “They are.” It makes him feel elated to know that Yuri had remembered something about him. Insignificant as it was, it didn’t matter. He reached for one and found it to still be very warm but it didn’t really matter to him. He held it in his hand, waiting for it to cool further before biting into it and relishing in its perfect taste. It made him think back to the first time Yuri had baked Vatrushka’s for him and again sadness gripped his heart, but he couldn’t allow himself to be overcome by it. Not when now when Yuri was here and looking at him expectantly. “It’s good,” He tells him, “So good.”

Yuri had his full attention on him, so he didn’t miss the way Victor closed his eyes and truly enjoyed the taste of the baked treats. It made him remember something from his dreams—Victor, his eyes closed, his head thrown back, his moans right in Yuri’s ear—with growing mortification Yuri turned away, hastily sitting back down on his chair, feeling the back of his neck burning. That was not—that was not the pictures he needed right now. He tries to drown these—images—to focus on the real issue at hand.

He needed to address the kiss from yesterday first, then depending on Victor’s answer, he’d broach the topic of his dreams and why Victor was the leading protagonist on all of them. Because if there’s one thing that Yuri was sure of was the fact that after yesterday, he could not keep living his life full of uncertainty. He could not keep his distance from Victor anymore.

“You’re too quiet,” Victor’s voice comes making him flinch. “ _Kitten…”_

And Yuri doesn’t know if it’s the way he said it, or if he’s just had with them avoiding the elephant in the room but he asks, “Why did you kiss me?”

The silence that follows is long, too long, so long Yuri begins to doubt that he even said the words. He looks up at him, looking at Victor in the eyes, and is surprised to find Victor already looking at him. It made him a little angry, that he hadn’t answered him immediately.

And Victor, well, he didn’t know how to answer that question. He didn’t think just saying, _because I love you_ would fix anything.

But he goes with a version of the truth, “Because I wanted to.” He watches as Yuri’s face lights up in astonishment as if he was expecting to hear something different as if maybe he was expecting denial or excuses. If Yuri had never had his accident, and if he never lost his memories, and Victor had fixed the all the wrongs he’d done, he wonders if Yuri would have been as surprised. Victor had never meant to do it, but he probably dangled his affections in Yuri’s face often. He always gave him his love in fragments rather than everything at once. But Victor is done with that, so he says, “I wanted to do it _so_ much.”

“You-you really wanted to?” Yuri asks, incredulously as his surprise turned to embarrassment. He couldn’t—couldn’t believe that easily. There was still something that made him hesitate, something that made him think that he was dreaming awake. And that made him remembered his dreams again. The fear, the uncertainty, the hope, and every other convoluted emotion settled in his stomach like a weight. Victor’s admission made him realize that then—maybe—the dreams _were_ real. That Victor and he were more than just teammates, more than just friends. Just like his dreams depicted.

Victor reaches across the table and laced their hands together, squeezing.

“Yes,” He repeats, “I wanted to kiss you.” He tries to keep his voice from shaking so Yuri knows that he’s being honest. He wanted to make sure that Yuri knew he wouldn’t lie about this. That he wouldn’t lie to him ever again. It didn’t matter how much or how little Yuri remembered, or if he remembered all of Victor’s failures, he was tired of pretending and the only thing he wanted was to be with him. In whatever way Yuri wanted him, so he asks, “And you? Why did you kiss me?”

Yuri looks down at their intertwined hands and shifts nervously in his seat. The more Yuri thinks about it, the more he feels trapped, so he pulls his hand away. His throat has grown dry and his hands were sweating. This was it, this was the moment Yuri had been waiting for. The chance to finally breach the topic of his dreams but it wasn’t easy. He still feared Victor would reach in disgust, even if he had admitted he wanted to kiss him. He thinks over how he wants to word this but nothing seems right and minutes pass without him saying anything.

“Well,” He starts, finally, clearing his throat and forcing himself to look up at Victor, though he focuses his gaze on the spot between Victor’s eyebrows. “I wanted to kiss you too.” He paused, gathering his courage but his gaze fell to his hands again, “But I—I also wanted to see…if it was the same as in my dreams.” His voice tapered off at the end and when he snuck a peek up at VIctor’s face the older man was looking at him confused.

 _“Dreams_?” He asked.

The hope that was growing in Victor was a dangerous thing, so he tried to not let it overtake his reasoning. But as he watched Yuri bite his bottom lip in a nervous tic—a habit Victor had tried and failed to get rid of by kissing him every time he did it—made him want to gather him in his arms and reassure him that everything was going to be fine.

“It’s because,” Yuri started, “I—since the first time I woke up in the hospital and I saw you—“ He swallows nervously, “I started to-to dream about you.”

“What type of dreams?” Victor asked and Yuri looked up at him, his mouth open and his face flushing an intense _red_. It was enough of an answer for him. And he cannot deny the fact that he was absolutely delighted at the revelation.

Yuri closes his eyes at the question, trying to coherently gather all that he has to say and not make a fool of himself. He begins, “In one of them…” He wrinkles his nose, “I’m at your house. On the balcony, Makkachin is there and I’m sad because of—“ He frowns, not quite remembering why it was, “I’m sad but then—then you get home…and I feel better.” He pauses and then continues, “In another, I’m asking you to help me find an apartment…and you agree…”

Victor listens with rapt attention, not wanting to miss anything that Yuri is saying.

And with every _dream_ narrated, Victor’s heart lurches in his chest. The hope grows and grows as Yuri recounts their first kiss, their first actual date, and other little moments that he had believed had been stolen from Yuri forever. And he’s waiting—waiting for his to bring up the awful things, the sad things, but he doesn't. His kitten only seems to remember the very prominent moments of their relationship, before Victor fucked it all up. He remembers skating his debut but he doesn’t remember the broader details.

When Yuri is done talking, he searches Victor’s face for any sign of disgust or rejection. But none of that is there, instead, he looks at Yuri contemplatively.

“Is that all you _remember_?” He asks, emphasizing the word and Yuri’s face lights up in anticipation, in hope.

“So-so,” He asks his voice trembling, “They-they’re not just not dreams?”

Victor shakes his head and Yuri feels a weight lifted off his shoulders but then…it makes him remember something else, “So does-does that mean…you and I…are together?”

Ah, he’s the question he had been dreading. Victor’s heart plummets in his chest and the words get stuck in his throat. He closes his eyes for a moment and with stark clarity, he can see in his mind's eye, Yuri and his last encounter. The way Yuri had been so angry, so hurt, in the showers, how he had stood naked, looking so unattainable and far away that to Victor it had seemed like the end. He remembered how miserable he had been at the gala and everything that happened afterward. And here now, looking at him again, with this hopeful twinkle in his eye made him hesitate. He didn’t want to lie to him but he didn’t want to lose him again either. And it was clear that Yuri didn’t remember everything about their awful ending.

The silence dragged on too much and Yuri’s shoulders slumped, every second that passed his hope dwindled and he felt despair settling in his gut.

“No,” Victor finally admits, “We are not together.”

“Oh!” He exclaims, louder than he intended and his eyes prickle with tears. He had known—had known all along that _Victor would break his heart again._ He blinked, not really understanding why he had the thought but the gaping hole of pain was still in his chest.

Victor came to a decision.

He’d seen how Yuri’s face had fallen in resignation and sadness and it made him ache. Victor longed for the teen with the sharp young and kind heart, longed for who Yuri had been, for the one who never gave up even when all the odds were stacked against him. He longed for the spitfire boy that had stolen his heart, for the kitten that curled in his chest when they fell asleep. He stands up from his seat, coming around the table until he’s standing in front of Yuri. He turns him in his direction as he kneels before him to get a better look at his face. Yuri’s eyes are filled with unshed tears and Victor wanted to grovel at his feet, but instead he too his hands.

“It’s true that at the time of your accident we weren’t together. I loved you—I still do—but there were a lot of things that happened,” He began, speaking honestly, “Things were complicated, there were many things that made me…distance myself from you. You were barely coming into seniors, already shinning so brightly that I couldn’t try to steal you for myself.” He continues, squeezing Yuri’s hands, “I was scared too. Scared that one day you would wake up and realize that what you felt for me wasn’t love. You’re young. And I hurt you and you didn’t deserve any of it. But—“

His words are cut short because Yuri shakes his hands out of Victor’s grip and wrap around him in a hug.

“You’re an idiot.” He says, as the tears finally began running down his cheeks. Yuri felt like he was drowning under everything he had found out today. And though he knew there were things still left to remember,he didn’t want this. He knew he didn’t want this. For him, memories or not, it would always be Victor, “You’re so stupid.”

Victor held him tightly, loving the way Yuri felt pressed up against him. Having him in his arms was a dream. A dream that for so long had seemed unattainable. Yuri pulls away and Victor can’t stop him but the younger grabs his face in his hands and kisses him. Kisses him like he’s bringing him back to life. It was Victor’s hope becoming something tangible and Yuri’s dreams coming true. It was both their hearts beating as one and love. Love.

Their lips part, but they don’t pull away.

“So—“ Victor begins.

“I love you,” Yuri interrupts.

“But you don’t remember everything yet,” He says, his voice strained.

“But if having an accident and losing my memories won’t get rid of my love for you, nothing will.”

“Are you sure about that?” Victor asks because though he wants to believe what he says is true, there was a lot that still needed to be said.

“I love you,” Yuri said again, running his fingers lightly over Victor’s features, “I’m not saying that I’m not scared of the future but I want to believe in the feelings that didn’t go away despite everything. I want to trust you. Do you love me?”

“I love you more than anything else in this world, Yura.”

“So…then…”

“I want this. I want you.” Victor says. And though he was fearful of the uncertainly that lay ahead of them, he knew he would go through with it with Yuri at his side. “If you’re willing to give me an opportunity…would you stay with me?”

Yuri swallows thickly, through his tears, “I’ll stay with you.”

Victor smiles, like the smiles from one of his dreams that Yuri could now confidently say were his memories. There was fear in him, he didn’t deny that, but he chose to believe that they could make it out through this dark tunnel and make it to the other side. Nothing can be destroyed and rebuild in a day, but as long as Victor was as this die, Yuri was confident that it would be okay.

With that last thought, he let Victor pull him in for another kiss, because right here, right now, in Vitya’s arm, the future opened up before them and he saw brilliance at the end of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thank you for reading.  
> this is technically "the end" but the epilogue awaits and it's also like 10K words so just pretend we're waiting for another chapter LOLOL  
> i love this story, I've spent a lot of time with it and I only love it more. I think miss. breakable butterfly is a genius for this. but anyway, comment if you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed it and i will see you next time when i have the next chapter done!  
> 


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